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only,    and    is   subject   to   a   fine   of   TWO 
CENTS   a   day   thereafter.      It   will   be 
due   on    the   day   indicated   below. 


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OLD     LA3NDMARKS 


OF 


MIDDLESEX. 


BY    THE    SAME    AUTHOR. 


OLD    LANDMARKS 


HISTORIC      PERSONAGES 


BOSTON. 


One  Volume.     12ino       With  100  Illustrations. 

.?2.00. 


•»*  Seut,  post-paid,   on    receip:  of  price  by  the  Pub- 
lishers, 

ROBERTS   BROTHERS,  Bosrox. 


-  ^~n 


M^^^ 


/  ,'. 


r^ 


^-•V 


f  5 


Old  Landmarks 


AND 


Historic   Fields 


OF  MIDDLESEX. 


Bv   SAMUEL   ADAMS    DRAKE. 


Illustrateo. 


BOSTON: 
ROBERTS     BROTHERS. 

1888. 


975 
M38x 

>rDc- 

Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1873, 

BY    JAMES    E.    OSGOOD    AND    COMPANY, 

in  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


THIRD   EDITION* 


Janibrrsitg  ^tfss  : 
John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambripge. 


INVITATION   TO   THE   READER. 

THIS  is  neither  a  county  history  nor  a  relation  of  con- 
secutive events,  but  a  series  of  historic-colloquial  ram- 
bles among  the  memorable  places  of  Old  Middlesex.  Arm 
in  arm  we  thread  the  Colonial  highways,  reading  history, 
recounting  traditions,  and  discussing  men  and  events  with 
much  freedom,  —  challenging  as  we  go  the  dwellings  of 
former  generations  to  yield  up  their  secrets,  not  indeed 
to  reproduce  spectres,  bat  living  objects,  —  rehabilitating  the 
Old  and  arraying  it  beside  the  New.  At  parting  I  shall  hope 
you  will  have  no  cause  to  regret  our  companionship. 

Our  saunterings  are  chiefly  in  those  ways  made  famous 
by  the  earliest  warlike  events  of  the  Revolution,  pausing, 
incidentally,  to  trace  the  almost  obliterated  vestiges  of  the 
siege,  with  pictures  of  the  camps  and  portraits  of  the  char- 
acters, civil  and  military,  of  the  time,  considered  as  men 
and   not   as  gods. 

History  of  battles  or  campaigns  should,  as  I  think,  ena- 
ble the  student  to  go  upon  the  ground,  and  with  book  in 
hand  follow  the  movements  of  contending  armies  as  they 
actually  occurred.  As  mnch  as  has  been  written  of  the 
eleven  months'  campaign  for  the  possession  of  Boston,  I 
have  not  found  any  modern  author  who  has  brought  his 
narrative  of  the  military  operations  and  topography  into 
correspondence,  and  in  so  far  as  this  may  be  accounted  a 
<leficiency,  have  endeavored  to  supply  it.  Foremost,  also, 
among    my   motives    is    the    knowledge    that    the    exigencies 


VI  INVITATION    TO    THE   READER. 

of  commerce  or  of  overflowing  population  are  changing  the 
face  of  JS'ature  beyond  all  power  of  recognition.  With  pen 
and  pencil  I  seek  to  establish  some  slight  memorials  on 
which  •  th§  future  explorer  may  lean  a  little  as  he  takes 
up  and  brings  forward   the   chain. 

At  this  day  the  ancient  shire,  our  subject,  exerts  a 
weighty  influence  in  the  nation.  She  contributes  a  Vice- 
President,  Cabinet  Minister,  Senator,  and  three  of  the 
eleven'  Representatives  to  Avliich  the  State  is  entitled  in 
its  councils.  Who  have  been  her  childi'en  in  the  past  will 
appear  as  we   proceed. 

The  map  which  is  joined  to  this  volume  is  of  great 
rarity,  and  is  now,  by  the  kindness  of  Dr.  Wheatland  of 
Salem,  for  the  first  time  reproduced  in  exact  facsimile. 
With  its  help  we  discover  the  appearance  of  Colonial  Bos- 
ton and  its'  environs  of  a  century  ago.  It  may  be  con- 
sulted with  confidence.  The  view  from  the  Navy- Yard, 
showing  Bunker  Hill  previous  to  the  erection  of  the  mon- 
ument, is  from   a  painting  l)y  Mrs.   Hannah   Armstrong,  nee 

Crowninshield. 

I -trust  these  pages  may  bear  to  the  many  friends  to 
wliom  T  am  under  obligations  the  evidence  of  the  faithful- 
ness of  my  endeavors  to  portray  what  has  seemed  most 
worthy  in'  Old  New  England  Life. 

"  Together  let  us  beat  this  ample  field, 
Try  what  the  open,  what  the  covert  yield  ; 
The  latent  tracts,  the  giddy  heights  explore, 
Of  all  who  blindly  creep,  or  sightless  soar." 

Melrose,  October  29,  1873. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

THE   GATEWAY  OF   OLD  MIDDLESEX. 

Environs  of  Boston.  —  Charles  River.  —  History  of  the  Bridges.  — Lemuel 
Cox.  — Charlestown  in  the  Olden  Time.  — John  Harvard.  — The  Night 
Surprise  at  Doncaster.  —  William  Rainsborrovv.  -  -  Robert  Sedgwick.  — 
Nathaniel  Gorham.  —  Washington  and  Hancock.  —  Jedediah  Morse.  — 
Anecdote  of  Dr.  Gardiner.  — Samuel  F.  B.  Morse.  — His  first  Telegraph. 
—  Charlotte  Cushman's  Home.  —  Her  debut  in  England 


CHAPTER    II. 

AN  HOUR  IN  THE  GOVERNMENT  DOCKYARD. 

Origin  of  Charlestown  Navy- Yard.  —  Wapping.  —  Nicholson  and  the 
Constitution.  —Commandants  of  the  Yard.  — Constitution  and  Java. 
—  Commodore  Hull.  —  George  Claghorn.  —  The  Park  of  Artillery.  — 
Cannon  in  the  Revolution.  —  Compared  with  Woolwich.  —  Naval  Bat- 
tle in  Boston  Harbor.  —  Anecdotes  of  Lord  Nelson.  —  Tribute  to 
Algiers. — Hopkins. — Paul  Jones. — Projectiles.  —  Invention  of  the 
Anclior.  —  The  Dry-Dock.  —  Josiah  Barker.  —  Captain  Dewey  and  the 
Constitution's  Figure-Head.  —  Famous  Ships  built  here.  —  Launch  of 
the  Merrimac.  —  Masts,  Sheathing,  and  Conductors.  —  The  Origin  of 
"U.  S."  — Iron  Clads.  —  Landing  of  Sir  William  Howe.  —Area  of  the 
Yard.  —  The  Naval  Institute         . 26 


CHAPTER    III. 

BUNKER  HILL  AND  THE  MONUMENT. 

Coup  cVml  from  the  Hill.  —  British  Regiments  in  the  Battle.  —  Their 
Arms,  Dress,  and  Colors. —Anecdotes  of  the  Royal  Welsh.  —  Losses 
and   Incidents   of  the   Battle.  —  Lords   Rawdon   and   Harris. —John 


viii  CONTENTS. 

Cofl^.  —  Admiral  Graves.  —  Generals  Small,  Burgoyne,  and  Pigot.  — 
Trumbull's  Painting.  —  The  Command.  —  American  Officers  engaged. 

—  Putnam's  Exertions.  —  The  Redoubt.  —  Other  Intrenchments. — 
Vestiges  of  the  Works.  —  Singular  Powers  of  American  Officers.  — 
Fall  of  Warren.  —  The  Slaughter.  —  History  of  the  Monuments.  — 
Bunker  Hill  Proper  and  Works.  —  Middlesex  Canal    ....       52 

CHAPTER    IV. 

THE   CONTINENTAL  TRENCHES. 

Military  Roads  in  1775.  —  Mount  Benedict.  —  General  Lee  at  the  Outpost. 

—  Morgan's  Ritles. — Burning  of  the  Ursuline  Convent. — Governor 
Winthrop  and  Ten  Hills.  — Robert  Temple.  — Redoubts  at  Ten  Hills. 

—  General  Sullivan.  —  Samuel  Jaques.  —  Winter  Hill  fortified.  — View 
of  Sullivan's  Camp  and  Fort.  — Scammell,  Wilkinson,  Burr,  and  Arnold. 

—  Anecdote  of  Vanderlyn,  tlie  Painter.  —  Dearborn  at  Monmouth. — 
Hessian  Encampment.  —  Will  Yankees  tight  ( 83 

CHAPTER    V. 

THE   OLD   WAYSIDE   MILL. 

Its  History  and  Description.  —A  Colonial  Magazine. — Removal  of  the 
Powder  by  General  Gage.  — Washington  and  the  Powder  Scarcity.  — 
Expedients  to  supply  the  Army.  —  A  Legend  of  the  Powder  House    .     110 


CHAPTER    VI. 

THE  PLANTATION   AT  MYSTIC   SIDE. 

The  Royall  Mansion  and  Family.  —  Flight  of  Colonel  Royall.  —  John 
Stark  occupies  the  House.  —  Anecdotes  of  Stark.  —Bennington  and  its 
Results. — Prisoners  brought  to  Boston. — The  Bennington  Guns. — 
Lee  and  Sullivan  at  Colonel  Royall's.  —  Hobgoblin  Hall.  —  Taverns 
and  Travel  in  former  Times.  —Old  Medford  and  its  Inns. —Shipbuild- 
ing. —  John  Brooks  at  Bemis's  Heights.  —  Governor  Cradock's  Planta- 
tion-House. —  Political  Cni/p  d'eiat  by  the  Massachusetts  Company.  — 
Cradock's  Agents.  —  Reflections 119 


CHAPTER    VII. 

LEE'S    HEADQUARTERS    AND   VICINITY. 

Lee's  Headquarters.  —  Was  he  a  Traitor  ? —  Anecdotes  of  the  General.  — 
The  Surprise  at  Baskingridge.  —  Meeting  of  Washington  and  Lee  at 
Monmouth. —Lee's  Will  and  Death.  —Works  on  Prospect  Hill  de- 


CONTENTS.  IX 

scribed.  —  General  Greene's  Command. — Wa.shington's  Opinion  of 
Greene.  —  Retires  from  the  Army  embarrassed.  —  Eli  Whitney.  —  How 
the  Provincials  mounted  Artillery.  —  Their  Resources  in  this  Arm.  — 
Massachusetts  Regiment  of  Artillery.  —  Small-Arms. — Putnam's  Flag- 
Raising. —  Deacon  Whitcomb. — Colonel  Wesson.  —  Union  Standard 
hoisted.  —  Quarters  of  Burgoyne's  Troops.  — Appearance  of  British  and 
Hessians.  —  Mutinous  Conduct  of  Prisoners.  —  They  are  transferred  to 
Rutland.  —  They  march  to  Virginia.  —  Horrible  Domestic  Tragedy.  — 
Remains  of  the  Old  Defences 141 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

OLD   CHARLESiOWN   ROAD,    LECHMERE'S   POINT,    AND 
PUTNAM'S   HEADQUARTERS. 

Executions  in  Middlesex.  —  Site  of  the  Gibbet.  — Works  on  Cobble  Hill. 
—  Sketches  of  Colonel  Knox.  —  He  brings  Battering  Train  from  Crown 
Point.  —  Mrs.  Knox.  —  Joseph  Barrell.  —  His  Mansion-House.  — 
McLean  Asylum.  —  Miller's  River.  —  Lechmere's  Point.  —  Access  to 
in  1775.  — Fortitication  of.  — Bombardment  of  Boston.  —  The  Evacua- 
tion. —  Career  and  Fate  of  Mike  Martin.  -  Cambridge  Lines  described. 
Ralph  Inman's.  —  Captain  John  Linzee's  (-ourtship.  —  Putnam  at 
Inman's.  —  Anecdotes  of  Putnam.  —  Margaret  Fuller.  —  Allston  and 
his  Works 169 


CHAPTER    IX. 

A   DAY  AT   HARVARD. 

Old  Cambridge.  —  An  Episcopal  See  contemplated.  —  Dr.  Apthorp.  — 
Burgoyne's  Quarters.  —  Dana  Mansion.  —  David  Phips.  —  General 
Gookin.  —  First  Observatory  at  Harvard.  —  Gore  Hall  and  the  College 
Library.  — Father  Rale's  Dictionary.  — His  cruel  Fate.  ■ — The  Presi- 
dent's House.  — Distinguished  Occupants.  — Willard.  — Kirkland.  — 
Quincy.  —  Everett.  — Increase  Mather  and  Witchcraft.  —  Thomas  Dud- 
ley, —  Topography.  —  Bradish's  Tavern.  —First  Church,  —  Old  Court- 
House  and  Jail.  —  Laws  and  Usages  of  the  Colonists.  — Dane  Hall.  — 
Only  two  Attorneys  in  Massachusetts  .         .         .         .         .         .195 


CHAPTER    X. 

A   DAY   AT   HARVARD,    CONTINUED. 

Founding  and  Account  of  First  College  Buildings.  —  College  Press.  — 
Stephen  Daye.  — Samuel  Greene.  ^ — Portraits  in  Massachusetts  Hall. — • 
College  Lotteries.  —  Governor  Bernard. —The  Quadrangle.  —  College 


CONTENTS. 

Customs.  —  The  Clubs.  —  Commencement.  —  Dress  of  Students.  —  Ox- 
ford Caps.  —  George  Downing. — Class  of  1763. — Outbreaks  of  the 
Students.  —  The  American  Lines 221 


CHAPTER    XI. 

CAMBRIDGE   CAMP, 

Early  Military  Organization  by  the  Colony.  —  Soldier  of  1630.  —  A 
Troop  in  1675.  —  Tlie  Bayonet  invented.  —  Formation  of  a  Provincial 
Army.  —  Cambridge  Common.  — The  Continental  Parades.  — Arrange- 
ment of  the  Army.  —  Its  Condition  in  July,  1775.  — Want  of  Distin- 
guishing Colors.  —  Attempts  to  uniform.  —  Ai-my  Headquarters.  — 
Jonathan  Hastings.  — Explanation  of  the  word  "  Yankee."  —  Captain 
Benedict  Arnold.  —  Committee  of  Safety.  —  General  Ward,  —  His  In- 
trepidity in  Shays's  Rebellion.  —  Warren  en  route  to  Bunker  Hill.  — 
Professor  Pearson.  —  Abiel  Holmes.  —  0.  W.  Holmes.  —  Lines  to  Old 
Ironsides 245 


CHAPTER    XII. 

CAMBRIDGE  COMMON  AND  LANDMARKS. 

Dr.  Waterhouse.  — Inoculation.  —Siege  Cannon.  —  Whiteheld's  Elm.  — 
The  Washington  Elm.  —  The  Haunted  House.  —  Important  Crises  in 
Washington's  Career.  —  Visits  the  Old  South  Churcli.  —  New  England 
Church  Architecture.  — Christ  Church.  — Occui)ied  by  Troops.  — The 
Ancient  Burial-Place. — Judge  Trowbridge.  —  Old  Brattle  House.— 
Thomas  Brattle.  —General  Mifflin.  —Judge  Story.  —  W.  W.  Story.— 
The  Windmill.  —  Jonathan  Belcher.  —  Benjamin  Church's  Treachery     264 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

HEADQUARTERS   OF   THE   ARMY. 

Visit  to  Mr.  Longfellow.  — Colonel  John  Vassall. —Colonel  John  Glover. 
—  Washington  takes  Possession.  —  His  personal  Appearance,  Habits, 
and  Dress.  —  Continental  Uniform.  —  Peale's  Portrait.  —Order  of  March 
17,  1776. —The  General's  Military  Family.  —  His  Pugnacity.  —  Chi- 
rography  of  his  Generals.  —  Monmouth  again.  —  Anecdotes.  —  "  Lord  " 
Stirling  and  Lady  Kitty.  —  Lafayette  and  his  Family.  —  French 
Generals  in  our  Service .  —  Washington's,  Napoleon's,  and  Wellington's 
Orders.  —  Councils  of  War.  —  Arrival  of  Mrs.  Washington.  —  The 
Household.  —  Formation  of  the  Body-Guard.  —  Caleb  Gibbs.  —  Na- 
thaniel Tracy.  —  Andrew  Craigie.  —  Talleyrand  and  Prince  Edward.  — 
Jared  Sparks  and  other  Occupants.  —  Longfellow  becomes  an  Inmate     2S9 


CONTENTS.  XI 

CHAPTER    XIV. 

OLD  TORY   ROW  AND  BEYOND. 

Sewall  Mansion.  —  Jonathan  and  John.  — General  Riedesel.  — Prisoners 
of  War  in  1777;  —  How  the  German  Flags  were  saved.  — Jiidge  Lee.  — 
Thomas  Fayerweather.  — Governor  Gerry's.  --Thomas  Oliver.  —  l^olit- 
ical  Craft.  — The  Gerrymander.  — Dr.  Lowell. — James  Russell  Lowell. 

—  Speculations.  —  Caroline  Gilman 313- 

CHAPTER    XV. 

MOUNT  AUBURN  TO  NONANTUM  BRIDGE. 

Thoughts.  —  The  Tower.  —  Pere  la  Chaise.  —  Dr.  Jacob  Bigelow.  — 
Indifference  which  old  Cemeteries  experience.  —  Funeral  Rites.  — 
Duration  of  Bones.  —  The  Chapel  and  Statuary.  —  The  Origin  of 
Moimt  Auburn.  —  Fresh  Pond.  —  A  Refuge  on  the  Day  of  Lexington. 

—  Nat  Wyeth's  Expedition  to  the  Pacittc. — The  Ice-Traffic. — Fred- 
erick Tudor.  —  Richardson's  Tavern.  —  Cock-Fighting.  —  Old  Water- 
town  Graveyard.  —  Rev.  George  Phillips.  —  Provincial  Congress.  — 
Rev.  William  Gordon.  —  Edes's  Printing-Office.  —  Sign  of  Mr.  Wilkes. 

—  John  Cook's  and  the  Colony  Notes.  —  Thomas  Prentice.  —  Joseph 
Ward.  —  Michael  Jackson.  —  Nonantum  Hill.  —  General  Hull.  — Tlie 
Apostle  Eliot 326- 

CHAPTER    XVI. 

LECHMERE's  POINT   TO   LEXINGTON. 

Discovery  of  Gage's  Plans.  —  American  Preparations  for  War.  —British 
Reconnoissance.  —  Colonel  Smith  lands  at  Lechmere's  Point.  —  His 
aAIarch.  —  The  Country  alarmed.  —  Philip  d'Auvergne.  —  Pitcairn  ar- 
ri\-es  at  Lexington  Green.  —  Who  is  responsible  ?  —  Topography.  — 
Battle  Monument.  —  Disposition  of  the  Dead.  —The  Clark  House.  — 
Hancock  and  Adams.  —  Dorothy  Q.  —  The  Battle  of  Lexington  in 
England 354 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

LEXINGTON   TO   CONCORD. 

The  Approach  to  Concord.  —The  Wavside.  —Hawthorne.  —A.  Bronson 
Alcott.  —  Louisa.  —  May.  —  R.  W.  Emerson.  —  Thoreau.  —  Concord  on 
the  Day  of  Invasion.  —  Epliraim  Jones  and  John  Pitcairn.  —  Colonel 
Archibald  Campbell.  —71st  Highlanders.— Anecdote  of  Simon  Fraser. 
—  Mill  Pond. —  Timothy  Wheeler's  Ruse-de-gicerre.  —The  Hill  Bury- 
ing-Groimd.  —  The  Slave's  Epitaph 371 


xii  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    XVIII. 

THE  RETREAT  FROM  CONCORD. 

The  Battle  Monument.  —  The  two  Graves.  —  Position  of  the  Americans. 

—  The  Old  Mause.  —  Hawthorne's  Study.  —  The  Old  House  over  the 
Way.  — The  Troops  retreat.  — John  Brooks  attacks  them.  — A  Rout 
described.  —  A  Percy  to  the  Rescue.  —  Tlie  Royal  Artillery.  —  Old 
Munroe  Tavern.  —  Anxiety  in  Boston.  —  Warren  and  Heath  take  Part. 

—  Action  in  Menotomy.  —  Eliphalet  Downer's  Duel.  —  His  Escape 
from  a  British  Prison.  — Tlie  Slaughter  at  Jason  Russell's. — Incidents. 

—  Percy  escapes.  —  Contemporary  Accounts  of  the  Battle.  —  Monu- 
ments at  Acton  and  Arlington 380 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

A   FRAGMENT   OF   KING  PHILIP'S  WAR. 

South  Sudbury.  —  Outbreak  of  Philip's  War.  —  Measures  in  the  Colony. 

—  Marlborough  attacked.  —  Descent  on  Sudbury,  —  Defeat  and  Death 
of  Captain  Wadsworth.  —  Wadsworth  Monument.  —  Relics  of  Philip. 

—  The  Wayside  Inn.  —  Ancient  Taverns  vs.  Modern  Hotels.  —  The 
Interior  of  the  Wayside.  —Early  Post-Routes  in  New  England.  —Jour- 
ney of  Madam  Knight  in  1704 .        .    410 


CHAPTER    XX. 

THE  HOME  OF   RUMFORD. 

Birthplace  of  Count  Rumford.  —  His  Early  Life.  —  The  Old  Shop  near 
Boston  Stone.  —  Rumford's  Marriage,  Arrest,  and  Flight.  —  Bequest  to 
Harvard  College.  —  Portrait  of  the  Count.  —  Thomas  Graves,  the 
Admiral 427 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


• 

Pagb 

Belcher  Arms 285 

Belcher  {Portrait) 285 

Bunker  Hill  from  the  Navy- Yard,  about  1826      ....  26 

Bunker  Hill  Monument 52 

British  Flag  captured  at  Yorktown 54 

Brattle  Arms 281 

Broken  Gravestone 276 

Cannon  and  Carriage  used  before  Boston 153 

Cannon  dismantled 83 

Charlestown  Navy- Yard  in  1873 36 

"    1858 38 

Chauncy  Arms 208 

Flag  of  Washington's  Life-Guard    .        .        ...        .        .        .  308 

Flag  of  Morgan's  Rifles 87 

Fort  on  Cobble  Hill 172 

Gookin  Arms 200 

Gore  Hall,  1873 202 

Great  Harry 35 

Harvard  College  Lottery  Ticket  {Facsimile  of  an  Original)     .  227 

Harvard's  Monument .11 

Hessian  Flag 106 

KmG  VniiA?  {from  an  old  Print) 414 

Lexington  Monument 362 

Lowell  Arms 322 

Map  of  Boston  and  Environs  in  1775        .        .        .         facing  til le 

Mount  Auburn  Gateway 326 

Mount  Auburn  Chapel .        .  .335 


XIV  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Nix's  Mate 170 

Quadrangle  Harvard  College 231 

Sewall-Riedesel  Mansion 313 

Sign  of  the  Wayside  Inn 421 

Smith,  Captain  John 3 

Stanch  and  Strong 39 

Trophies  op  Bennington 1 

Ursuline  Convent  in  Ruins 91 

Washington  Statue  (Ball's) 295 

Wendell  Arms 255 

Washington  Elm,  1873 267 

WiLLARD  Arms 207 


NOTE  TO  THE  SECOND  EDITION. 

The  close  relationship  which  this  volume  bears  to  the  •'  Old 

Landmarks  of  Boston"  has  determined  the  adoption  of  a 

similar  general  title  for  both.     As  companions,  they  now  fulfil 

the  original  design.      Since  the  first  edition  of  -'  Middlesex  " 

was  printed,  Charlestowii  has  become  a  i)art  of  Boston  ;  and 

these  rambles  conduct  where  the  most  memorable  events   of, 

her  history  lead  us.     A  new  edition  permits  such  revision  as 

incessant  change  has  rendered  needful  to  a  correct  reading  of 

the  text. 

S.  A.  D. 
BcsTON,  April  24,  1876. 


CHAPTER  I. 


THE  GATEWAY  OF  OLD  MIDDLESEX. 

''A  sup   of   New  England's  Aire  is  better  than  a  whole  draught  of   Old 
England's   Ale." 

THE  charming  belt  of  country  around  Boston  is  full  of  in- 
terest to  Americans.  It  is  diversified  with  every  feature 
that  can  make  a  landscape  attractive.  Town  clasps  hands  with 
town  until  the  girdle  is  complete  where  Nahant  and  Nantasket 
sit  with  their  feet  in  the  Atlantic.  The  whole  region  may  be 
compared  to  one  vast  park,  where  nature  has  wrought  in  savage 
grandeur  what  art  has  subdued  into  a  series  of  delightful 
pictures.  No  one  portion  of  the  zone  may  claim  precedence. 
There  is  the  same  shifting  panorama  visible  from  every  rugged 
height  that  never  fails  to  delight  soul  and  sense.  We  can 
liken  these  suburban  abodes  to  nothing  but  a  string  of  precious 
gems  flung  around  the  neck  of  Old  Boston. 

Nor  is  this  all.  Whoever  cherishes  the  memory  of  brave 
deeds  —  and  who  does  not?  —  will  find  here  the  arena  in  which 
the  colonial  stripling  suddenly  sprang  erect,  and  planted  a  blow 
full  in  the  front  of  the  old  insular  gladiator,  —  a  blow  that  made 
him  reel  with  the  shock  to  his  very  centre.     It  was  here  the 

1  A 


A  HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

people  of  the  "  Old  Thirteen  "  first  acted  together  as  one  nation, 
and  here  the  separate  streams  of  their  existence  united  in  one 
mighty  flood.  The  girdle  is  not  the  less  interesting  that  it 
rests  on  the  ramparts  of  the  Revolution. 

It  is  in  a  great  measure  true  that  what  is  nearest  to  us  we 
know  the  least  about,  and  that  we  ignorantly  pass  over  scenes 
every  day,  not  a  whit  less  interesting  than  those  by  which  we 
are  attracted  to  countries  beyond  the  seas.  An  invitation  to  a 
pilgrimage  among  the  familiar  objects  which  may  be  viewed 
from  the  city  steeples,  while  it  may  not  be  comparable  to  a  tour 
in  the  environs  of  London  or  of  Paris,  will  not,  our  word  for  it, 
fail  to  supply  us  with  materials  for  reflection  and  entertain- 
ment. Let  us  beguile  the  way  with  glances  at  the  interior  home- 
life  of  our  English  ancestors,  while  inspecting  the  memorials 
they  have  left  behind.  Their  habitations  yet  stand  by  the 
wayside,  and  if  dumb  to  others,  will  not  altogether  refuse  their 
secrets  to  such  as  seek  them  in  the  light  of  historic  truth.  We 
shall  not  fill  these  old  halls  with  lamentations  for  a  gi-eatness 
that  is  departed  never  to  return,  but  remember  always  that 
there  is  a  living  present  into  which  our  lives  are  framed,  and 
by  which  the  civilization  of  what  we  may  call  the  old  regime 
may  be  tested.  Where  we  have  advanced,  we  need  not  fear 
the  ordeal ;  where  we  have  not  advanced,  we  need  not  fear  to 
avow  it. 

We  suppose  ourselves  at  the  water-side,  a  wayfarer  by  the  old 
bridge  leading  to  Charlestown,  with  the  tide  rippling  against 
the  wooden  piers  beneath  our  feet,  and  the  blue  sky  above  call- 
ing us  afield.  The  shores  are  bristling  with  masts  which 
gleam  like  so  many  polished  conductors  and  cast  their  long 
wavy  shadows  aslant  the  watery  mirror.  Behind  these,  houses 
rise,  tier  over  tier,  mass  against  mass,  from  which,  as  if  dis- 
dainful of  such  company,  the  granite  obelisk  springs  out,  and 
higher  yet,  a  landmark  on  the  sea,  a  Pharos  of  liberty  on 
the  shore. 

The  Charles,  to  which  Longfellow  has  dedicated  some  charm- 
ing lines,  though  not  actually  seen  by  Smith,  retained  the  name 
with  which  he  christened  it.     It  was  a  shrewd  guess  in  the 


THE    GATEWAY    OF    OLD    MIDDLESEX. 


bold  navigator,  that  the  numerous  islands  he  saw  in  the  bay- 
indicated  the  estuary  of  a  great  river  penetrating  the  interior. 
It  is  a  curious  feature  of  the  map  which  Smith  made  of  the 
coast  of  New  England  in  1614,  that  the  names  of  Plymouth, 
Boston,  Cambridge,  and  many  other  towns  not  settled  until 
long  afterwards,  should  be  there  laid  down.  Smith's  map  was 
the  first  on  which  the  name  of  New  England  appeared. 

In  the  pavement  of  St.  Sepulchre,  London,  is  Smith's  tomb- 
stone. The  inscription,  except  the  three  Turk's  heads,  is  totally 
effaced,  but  the  church  authorities  have  promised  to  have  it 
renewed  as  given  by  Stow. 

The  subject  of  bridging  the  river  from  the  old  ferry- way  at 
Hudson's  Point  to  the  opposite  shore  —  which  is  here  of  about 
the  same  breadth 
as  the  Thames  at 
London  Bridge 
—  was  agitated  as 
early  as  1712,  or 
more  than  seventy 
years  before  its 
final  accomplish- 
ment. In  1720 
the  attempt  was 
renewed,  but 
while  the  utility 
of  a  bridge  was 
conceded,  it  was 
not  considered  a 
practicable  under- 
taking. After  the 
Revolution    the  captain  john  smith. 

project  was  again  revived,  and  a  man  was  found  equal  to  the 
occasion.  An  ingenious  shipwright,  named  Lemuel  Cox,  was 
then  living  at  Medford,  who  insisted  that  the  enterprise  was 
feasible.  Some  alleged  that  the  channel  of  the  river  was  too 
deep,  that  the  ice  would  destroy  the  structure,  and  that  it 
would  obstruct  navigation  ;  while  by  far  the  greater  number 


4  HISTORIC   FIELDS    AND   MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

rejected  the  idea  altogether  as  chimerical.  But  Cox  persevered. 
He  brought  the  influential  and  enterjDrising  to  his  views ;  a 
charter  was  obtained,  and  this  energetic  and  skilful  mechanic 
saw  the  bridge  he  had  so  dexterously  planned  in  his  brain  be- 
come a  reality.  Captain  John  Stone,  of  Concord,  Mass.,  was 
the  architect  of  this  bridge.  His  epitaph  in  the  old  burying- 
ground  there  says  he  was  a  man  of  good  natural  abilities,  which 
seemed  to  be  adorned  with  modern  virtues  and  Christian  graces. 
He  died  in  1791. 

The  opening  of  the  structure  upon  the  anniversary  of  the 
battle  of  Bunker  Hill,  and  only  eleven  years  after  that  event, 
attracted  upwards  of  twenty  thousand  spectators.  The  day 
was  ushered  in  by  a  discharge  of  thirteen  cannon  from  the 
opposite  heights  of  Breed's  Hill,  Charlestown,  and  Copp's  Hill, 
Boston,  accompanied  by  repeated  peals  from  the  bells  of  Christ 
Church.  At  one  o'clock,  p.  m.,  the  proprietors  assembled  in 
the  State  House  for  the  purpose  of  conducting  the  several 
branches  of  the  Legislature  over  the  bridge.  The  procession, 
which  included  not  only  the  public  officials,  but  almost  every 
individual  of  prominence  in  the  community,  moved  from  State 
Street,  amid  a  salute  from  the  Castle,  and  upon  its  arrival  at 
the  bridge  the  attendant  companies  of  artillery  formed  two 
lines  to  the  right  and  left,  through  which  the  cortege  passed 
on  to  the  middle  of  the  bridge,  where  it  halted.  The  Presi- 
dent of  the  Corporation,  Thomas  Russell,  then  advanced  alone, 
and  directed  Mr.  Cox  to  fix  the  draw  for  the  passage  of  the 
company,  whicji  was  immediately  done.  The  procession  con- 
tinued its  march  to  Breed's  Hill,  where  two  tables,  each  three 
hundred  and  twenty  feet  long,  had  been  laid,  at  which  eight 
hundred  guests  sat  down  and  prolonged  the  festivities  until 
evening. 

When  built,  this  was  the  longest  bridge  in  the  world,  and, 
except  the  abutments,  was  entirely  of  wood.  Until  West 
Boston  Bridge  was  constructed,  in  1793,  it  yielded  a  splendid 
return  to  the  proprietors ;  but  the  latter  surpassed  it  not  only 
in  length,  but  in  beauty  of  architecture,  and,  with  the  cause- 
way on  the  Cambridge  side,  formed  a  beautiful  drive  or  prom- 


THE   GATEWAY    OF   OLD   MIDDLESEX.  5 

enade  of  about  two  miles  in  extent.  It  also  lessened  the  dis- 
tance from  Cambridge  to  Boston  more  than  a  mile.  In  1828 
Warren  Bridge  was  opened,  but  not  without  serious  opposition 
from  the  proprietors  of  the  old  avenue  ;  and  the  two  bridges 
might  not  inaptly  have  served  some  native  poet  for  a  colloquy 
as  famous  as  that  of  the  rival  "  Brigs  of  Ayr." 

"  Nae  langer  thrifty  citizens  an'  donee 
Meet  owre  a  pint,  or  in  the  Council-house  ; 
But  staumrel,  corky-headed,  graceless  Gentry, 
The  herryment  and  ruin  of  the  coiintry ; 
Men  tln-ee-parts  made  by  Tailors  and  by  Barbers, 
Wha'  waste  your  well  hain'd  gear  on  d — d  new  Brigs  and  Harbours  ! " 

The  ferry,  which  was  the  original  mode  of  transit  between 
the  two  peninsulas,  was  established  in  1635,  and  five  years 
later  was  granted  to  Harvard  College.  To  compensate  for  the 
loss  of  the  income  from  this  source  when  Charles  River  Bridge 
was  built,  the  proprietors  were  required  to  pay  .£200  per 
annum  to  the  University,  and  in  1792  the  same  sum  was 
imposed  on  the  West  Boston  Bridge  Corporation. 

Two  handbills,  each  embellished  with  a  rude  woodcut  of 
the  bridge,  were  printed  on  the  occasion  of  the  opening,  in 
1786.  One  was  from  the  "  Charlestown  Press  "  ;  the  other  was 
printed  by  "E.  Russell,  Boston,  next  door  to  Dr.  Haskins', 
near  Liberty  Pole."  *  From  the  broadside  (as  it  was  then 
called),  published  at  the  request  and  for  the  benefit  of  the 
directors  and  friends  of  this  ''  grand  and  almost  unparalleled 
undertaking,"  we  present  the  following  extract :  — 

"  This  elegant  work  was  begun  on  the  First  of  June  1785,  (a  day 
remarkable  in  the  Annals  of  America  as  the  Ports  of  Boston  and 
Charlestown  were  unjustly  shut  up  by  an  arbitrary  British  Admin- 
istration) and  was  finished  on  the  seventeenth  of  the  same  month 
1786,  the  ever  memorable  day  on  which  was  fought  the  famous  and 
bloody  Battle  of  Bunker-Hill,  where  was  shewn  the  Valour  of  the 
undisciplined  New  England  Militia  under  the  magnanimous 
Warren  who  gloriously  fell  in  his  Country's  Cause  !  Blessed  Be 
His  Memory  !  !  And  All  the  People —  Say  Amen  !  !  !  ! " 

*  Ezekiel  Russell's  printing-office  was  at  the  head  of  Essex  Street. 


b  HISTUlilC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

The  building  committee  were  Hon.  Nathaniel  Gorham, 
Eichard  Devens,  David  "Wood,  Jr.,  Captain  Joseph  Cordis, 
Andrew  Symmes,  Jr.,  and  John  Larkin. 

Lemuel  Cox,  the  artisan,  was  born  in  Boston  in  1736,  and 
died  in  Charlestown  in  1806.  In  1787  he  built  the  bridge 
to  Maiden,  which  was  finished  in  six  months ;  and  in  the  fol- 
lowing year  (1788),  the  Essex  Bridge,  at  Salem,  was  con- 
structed by  him.  In  1789  he  was  living  in  Prince  Street,  in 
Boston,  and  styled  himself  a  millwright.  In  1790,  accom- 
panied by  a  Mr.  Thompson,  Cox  went  to  Ireland,  where  he 
was  invited  to  estimate  for  the  building  of  a  bridge  over  the 
Foyle  at  Londonderry.  His  proposals  being  accepted,  the  two 
Americans  purchased  a  ship,  which  they  loaded  at  Sheepscot, 
Maine,  with  lumber,  and  having  secured  about  twenty  of  their 
countrymen,  skilled  in  shaping  timber,  set  sail  for  Ireland. 
The  bridge,  which  connected  the  city  and  county,  consisted 
of  fifty-eight  arches,  all  of  American  oak,  and  Avas  completed 
in  five  months.  The  Foyle  was  here  about  nine  hundred  feet 
wide  and  forty  feet  deep  at  high  water.  What  made  Cox's 
achievement  the  more  important  was  the  fact  that  Milne,  an 
English  engineer,  had  surveyed  the  river  and  pronounced  the 
scheme  impracticable. 

Our  pioneer  in  bridge-building  on  a  great  scale  in  America 
has  received  but  scanty  recompense  at  the  hands  of  biographers. 
Dr.  Ure  has  neither  noticed  his  great  works  in  Ireland  nor  in 
this  country.  Before  he  left  Europe,  Mr.  Cox  was  applied  to  by 
the  Corporation  of  London  to  take  down  Wren's  monument, 
which  was  supposed  to  threaten  a  fall ;  but,  as  they  would  not 
give  him  his  price,  he  declined.  Massachusetts  granted  him, 
in  1796,  a  thousand  acres  of  land  in  Maine,  for  being  the  first 
inventor  of  a  machine  to  cut  card-wire,  the  first  projector  of  a 
powder-mill  in  the  State,  and  the  first  to  suggest  the  employ- 
ment of  prisoners  on  Castle  Island  to  make  nails.  The  rude 
woodcut  which  adorned  the  head  of  the  broadside  circulated 
at  the  opening  of  Charles  Eiver  Bridge  was  executed,  as  the 
printer  says,  by  "that  masterpiece  of  ingenuity,  Mr.  Lemuel 
Cox."     It  shows  a  detaclunent  of  artillery  with  cannon  ready 


THE   GATEWAY    OF   OLD    MIDDLESEX,  7 

for  firing,  and  a  coach  witli  four  liorses,  and  a  footman  beliind, 
driving  at  full  speed  over  the  bridge. 

In  1786  no  ceremony  would  have  been  considered  complete 
without  the  aid  of  the  Muses,  and  the  Nine  Avere  energetically 
invoked  in  forty  stanzas,  of  which  we  submit  a  fair  specimen  :  — 

"  The  smiling  morn  now  peeps  in  view, 
Briglit  witli  peculiai"  charms, 
See,  Boston  Nymphs  and  Charlestown  too 
Each  linked  ai'm  in  arm. 

2.  "  I  sing  the  day  in  which  the  BRIDGE 

Is  finished  and  done, 
Boston  and  Charlestown  lads  rejoice, 
And  fire  your  cannon  guns. 

3.  "  The  BRIDGE  is  finished  now  I  say, 

Each  other  bridge  outvies, 
For  London  Bridge,  compar'd  with  ours 
Appears  in  dim  disguise. 

23.    "  Now  Boston,  Charlestown  nobly  join 
And  roast  a  fatted  Ox 
On  noted  Bunker  Hill  combine, 
To  toast  our  patriot  COX. 

38.    "  May  North  and  South  and  Charlestown  all 
Agree  with  one  consent. 
To  love  each  one  like  Indian's  rum, 
On  publick  good  be  sent." 

Chelsea  Bridge  was  built  in  1803,  and  the  direct  avenue  to 
Salem  opened  by  means  of  a  turnpike,  by  which  the  distance 
from  Boston  was  greatly  diminished.  The  bridge  was  to  revert 
to  the  Commonwealth  in  seventy  years. 

In  1643  the  colony  of  Massachusetts  Bay  was  divided  into 
four  shires,  of  which  Middlesex,  named  after  that  county  in 
Old  England  which  includes  London,  was  one.  It  is  the  most 
populous  of  all  the  counties  of  the  Old  Bay  State,  and  em- 
braces within  its  limits  the  earliest  battle-fields  of  the  Revolu- 
tion, the  first  seat  of  learning  in  the  English  colonies,  and  the 
manufactures  which  have  made  American  industry  known  in 
every  quarter  of  the  globe. 


8  HISTORIC   FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS   OF    MIDDLESEX. 

Charlestown,  the  mother  of  Boston,  resembled  in  its  super- 
ficial features  its  more  powerful  offspring.  It  was  a  peninsula, 
connected  with  the  mainland  by  a  narrow  neck ;  it  had  three 
principal  hills  also,  but  the  mutations  which  have  swept  over 
the  one  have  not  left  the  other  untouched.  To  remove  a 
mountain  is  now  only  a  question  of  time  ;  and  were  Mahomet 
to  live  again,  he  would  see  that  his  celebrated  reply  has  be- 
come void  of  significance. 

Like  Shawmut,  Mishawum  *  had  its  solitary  settler  in 
Thomas  Walford,  the  sturdy  smith,  who  was  found  living 
here  in  1628,  when  some  of  Endicott's  company  made  their  way 
through  the  wilderness  from  Salem.  The  next  year  the  settle- 
ment received  some  accessions,  and  was  named  Charles  Towne 
by  Governor  Endicott,  in  honor  of  the  reigning  prince.  Win- 
throp's  company  arrived  at  Charlestown  in  June  and  July, 
1630  ;  but,  owing  to  the  mortality  that  prevailed  and  the  want 
of  water,  the  settlers  soon  began  to  disperse,  the  larger  part  re- 
moving with  the  governor  to  Shawmut.  A  second  dispersion 
took  place  on  account  of  the  destruction  of  the  town  during 
the  battle  of  1775,  leaving  nothing  but  the  hills,  the  ancient 
burial-place,  and  a  few  old  houses  that  escaped  the  conflagra- 
tion. 

After  nearly  two  centuries  and  a  half  of  separate  existence, 
Charlestown  has  at  length  become  part  of  Boston.  The  peo- 
ple simply  ratified  what  History  had  already  decreed.  Now 
Bunker  Hill  and  Dorchester  Heights  lie,  as  they  ought  to  lie, 
within  a  common  municipal  government. 

The  old  ferry,  besides  serving  the  primitive  settlers,  is  de- 
serving of  recognition  as  the  place  where  the  first  exchange  of 
prisoners  took  place  after  hostilities  begun  between  America 
and  Great  Britain.  This  event  occurred  on  the  6th  of  June 
following  the  battle  of  Lexington,  and  was  conducted  by  Dr. 
Warren  and  General  Putnam  for  the  colony,  and  by  Major 
Moncrieff  on  behalf  of  General  Gage.  The  contending  parties 
concerned  themselves  little  at  that  time  about  what  has  since 
*  Indian  name  of  Charlestown. 


THE   GATEWAY    OF   OLD    MIDDLESEX.  9 

been  known  as  "belligerent  rights,"  each  being  ready  to  get  rid 
of  some  troublesome  visitors  by  the  easiest  and  most  natural 
method.  Warren  and  Putnam  rode  to  the  ferry  in  a  phaeton, 
followed  by  a  cavalcade  of  prisoners,  some  mounted  and  others 
riding  in  chaises.  Arrived  at  the  shore,  the  Doctor  and  '  Old 
Put'  signalled  the  Lively,  man-of-war,  and  Major  Moncrieff 
come  off  as  related.  After  the  performance  of  their  public 
business,  the  parties  to  the  exchange  adjourned  to  Mr.  Foster's, 
and  had  what  was  then  and  since  known  as  "a  good  time." 
A  much  worse  fate  happened  to  the  Bunker  Hill  prisoners,  and 
it  is  quite  evident  that  both  parties  looked  upon  the  collision 
at  Lexington  as  premature,  —  the  King's  commander  with 
misgiving  as  to  whether  his  conduct  would  be  sustained  in 
England ;  the  colonists  as  to  whether  their  resistance  had  not 
closed  the  door  against  that  reconciliation  \vith  the  throne  they 
professed  so  ardently  to  desire. 

The  great  square  around  which  clustered  the  humble  habita- 
tions of  the  settlers  ;  the  '^  great  house,"  inhabited  for  a  time 
by  the  governor,  and  in  which  the  settlement  of  Boston  was 
probably  planned  ;  the  thatched  meeting-house,  and  even  the 
first  tavern  of  old  Samuel  Long,  —  afterwards  the  sign  of  the 
Two  Cranes  and  situated  on  the  City  Hall  site,*  —  were  what 
met  the  eye  of  Josselyn  as  he  ascended  the  beach  into  the 
market-place  in  1638.  He  describes  the  rattlesnake  he  saw 
while  walking  out  there,  and  his  visit  to  Long's  ordinary. 
Eventually,  the  town  stretched  itself  along  the  street  leading  to 
the  mainland. 

In  these  times  of  degeneracy,  when  man  requires  the  most 
repressive  measures  to  compel  him  to  abstain  from  the  vice  of 
intemperance,  we  can  but  look  back  with  longing  eyes  upon 
those  halcyon  days  when  a  traveller  entering  a  public  inn  was 
immediately  follow^ed  by  an  officer,  who,  with  the  utmost  sang 
froid,  placed  himself  near  the  guest,  and  when,  in  his  opinion, 
his  charge  had  partaken  of  enough  strong  waters,  by  a  wave  of  his 
hand  forbade  the  host  to  fetch  another  stoup  of  liquor.  What 
a  companion  for  a  midnight  wassail  of  good  fellows  !     With  his 

*  Also  the  site  of  the  "Great  House." 


10       HISTOEIC   FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

gaze  riveted  upon  the  countenances  of  the  revellers,  he  marks 
each  stage  of  transition  from  sobriety  to  that  point  which  we 
may  call  the  perfect  equipoise,  where  the  law  steps  in.  With 
a  rap  of  his  staff  uj)on  the  floor,  or  a  thwack  of  his  fist  on  the 
table,  he  checks  the  song  or  silences  the  jest.  We  hardly  know 
how  to  sufficiently  admire  such  parental  care  in  our  forefathers  ; 
we  hesitate  to  compare  it  with  the  present  system. 

The  night-watch,  too,  was  an  institution.  With  their  great- 
coats, dark-lanterns,  and  iron-shod  staffs,  they  went  their  rounds 
to  warn  all  wayfarers  to  their  beds,  admonish  the  loiterers  who 
might  chance  to  be  abroad,  or  arrest  evil-doers.  Whether 
they  were  marshalled  nightly  by  their  officer  we  know  not, 
but  we  doubt  not  they  would  have  diligently  executed  their 
commission. 

Dogb.  Well,  you  are  to  call  at  all  the  alehouses,  and  bid  those  that  are 
drunk  get  them  to  bed. 

2  Watch.    How  if  they  will  not  ? 

Dogb.    Why,  let  them  alone  till  they  are  sober. 

The  watchman  had  an  ancient  custom  of  crying  "  All 's  well!" 
and  the  hour  of  the  night,  as  he  went  liis  rounds,  at  the  same 
time  striking  his  bill  upon  the  pavement.  This  was  to  banish 
sleep  altogether  from  the  bed  of  sickness,  or  divide  it  into 
periods  of  semi-consciousness  for  the  more  robust.  Well  can  we 
imagine  the  drowsy  guardian,  lurking  in  some  dark  passage  or 
narrow  lane,  shouting  with  stentorian  lungs  his  sleep-destroying 
watch-cry  under  the  stars,  and  startling  a  whole  neighborhood 
from  its  slumbers.  Like  the  Scot,  he  murdered  sleep  ;  like 
him,  he  should  have  been  condemned  to  sleep  no  more. 

Dr.  Bentley,  of  Salem,  who  perhaps  had  a  watchman  nightly 
posted  under  his  Avindow,  pertinently  inquired  through  a  new;-"- 
paper  if  it  would  not  be  better  to  cry  put  when  all  was  not  well, 
and  let  well  enough  alone. 

Charlestown  has  given  to  the  world  some  eminent  public 
characters.  Earliest  among  these  is  John  Harvard,  the  patron 
of  the  college  that  bears  his  name.  He  was  admitted  a  free- 
man "  with  promise  of  such  accommodations  as  we  best  can," 
in  1637,  but  died  the  following  year,  leaving  half  his  estate  for 


THE    GATEWAY   OF    OLD    MIDDLESEX. 


11 


HARVAKD  S   MONUMENT. 


the  use  of  the  infant  school  of  learning.  He  also  left  his  li- 
brary of  more  than  three  hundred  volumes  to  the  College,  and 
has  a  simple  granite  shaft,  erected  to  his  memory  on  Burial 
Hill,  in  Charles- 
town,  by  the 
graduates  of  the 
University  he 
aided  to  found. 
Edward  Everett 
delivered  the  ad- 
dress on  the  oc- 
casion of  the  ded- 
ication. The 
eastern  face  of 
the  monument, 
besides  the  name 
of  John  Harvard, 
bears  the  follow- 
ing inscription. 

"  On  the  26th  of  September,  a.  d.  1828,  this  stone  was  erected  by 
the  graduates  of  the  University  at  Cambridge,  in  honor  of  its 
founder,  who  died  at  Charlestown  on  the  26th  of  September, 
1638." 

The  western  front  bears  a  Latin  inscription,  recognizing  that 
one  M^ho  had  laid  the  corner-stone  of  letters  in  America  should 
no  longer  be  without  a  monument,  however  humble.  This 
memorial,  which  was  raised  nearly  two  hundred  years  after  the 
decease  of  Harvard,  rests  on  a  suppositive  site,  his  burial-place 
having  been  forgotten  or  obliterated.  Unfortunately,  less  is 
known  of  Harvard  than  of  most  of  his  contemporaries,  but  that 
little  is  treasured  as  a  precious  legacy  to  the  Alumni  of  the 
University.  The  old  graveyard,  one  of  the  most  interesting 
in  New  England,  as  having  received  the  ashes  of  many  of  Win- 
throp's  band,  suffered  mutilation  while  the  town  was  held  by 
the  British  in  1775  -6.  It  is  stated  that  the  gravestones  were 
in  some  cases  used  by  the  soldiers  for  thresholds  to  their 
barracks. 


12        HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 


THE  NIGHT  SURPRISE  AT  DONCASTER. 

Charlestown  may  also  lay  claim  to  having  given  two  brave 
soldiers  to  Old  Noll's  army  when  that  hard-hitting  Puritan  was 
cracking  the  crowns  of  loyal  Scot,  Briton,  or  Celt,  and  sending 
the  ringleted  cavaliers  over-seas  to  escape  his  long  arm. 

Principal  of  these  was  William  Rainsborrow  who  lived  here 
in  1639,  and  was,  with  Robert  Sedgmck  and  Israel  Stough- 
ton,  a  member  of  the  Honorable  Artillery  Company  of  Boston. 
Rainsborrow  had  risen  to  be  colonel  of  a  regiment  in  the 
Parliamentary  army,  in  which  Stoughton  (of  Dorchester)  was 
lieutenant-colonel,  Nehemiah  Bourne,  a  Boston  shipwright, 
major,  and  John  Leverett,  afterwards  governor,  a  captain; 
William  Hudson,  supposed  to  be  of  Boston,  also,  was  ensign. 

In  the  year  1648,  the  Yorkshire  royalists,  who  had  been 
Hving  in  quiet  since  the  first  war,  Avere  again  excited  by  intel- 
ligence of  Dtike  Hamilton's  intended  invasion.  A  plan  was 
laid  and  successfully  carried  out  to  surprise  Pomfret  Castle, 
(sometimes  called  Pontefract)  the  greatest  and  strongest  castle 
in  all  England,  and  then  held  by  Colonel  Cotterel  as  governor 
for  the  Parliament.  The  castle  was  soon  beseiged  by  Sir  Ed- 
ward Rhodes  and  Sir  Henry  Cholmondly  with  five  thousand 
regular  troops,  but  the  royal  garrison  made  good  their  conquest. 

It  being  likely  to  prove  a  tedious  affair.  General  Rains- 
borrow was  sent  from  London  by  the  Parliament  to  put  a 
speedy  end  to  it.  He  was  esteemed  a  general  of  great  skill 
and  courage,  exceedingly  zealous  in  the  Protector's  service, 
with  a  reputation  gained  both  by  land  and  sea,  —  he  having 
been,  for  a  time,  Admiral  of  Cromwell's  fleet.  Rainsborrow 
pitched  his  headquarters,  for  the  present,  at  Doncaster,  twelve 
miles  from  Pomfret,  with  twelve  hundred  foot  and  two  regi- 
ments of  horse. 

The  castle  garrison  having  learned  of  Hamilton's  defeat  at 
Preston,  and  that  Sir  Marmaduke  Langdale,  who  commanded 
the  English  in  that  battle,  was  a  prisoner,  formed  the  bold 
design  of  seizing  General  Rainsborrow  in  his  camp,  and  hold- 
ing him  a  hostage  for  Sir  Marmaduke.     The  design  seemed 


THE   GATEWAY    OF    OLD    MIDDLESEX.  13 

the  more  feasible,  because  the  general  and  his  men  were  in  no 
apprehension  of  any  surprise;  the  castle  being  twelve  miles 
distant,  closely  besieged,  and  the  only  garrison  for  the  King  in 
England. 

The  plan  was  shrewdly  laid,  favored  by  circumstances,  and 
was  completely  successful  except  that  instead  of  bringing  the 
general  off  they  were  obliged  to  kill  him.  With  only  twenty- 
two  picked  men,  well  mounted,  Captain  William  Paulden 
penetrated  into  Doncaster  undiscovered.  The  guards  were 
forced  and  dispersed,  while  a  party  of  four  made  for  the  gen- 
eral's lodgings.  At  the  door  they  were  met  by  his  lieutenant, 
who,  on  their  announcing  that  they  had  come  with  despatches 
from  General  Cromwell,  conducted  them  to  the  general's  cham- 
ber, where  he  was  in  bed.  While  the  general  was  opening  the 
despatch,  in  which  was  nothing  but  blank  paper,  the  king's 
men  told  him  he  was  their  prisoner,  but  that  not  a  hair  of  his 
head  should  be  touched,  if  he  went  quietly  along  with  them. 
They  then  disarmed  his  lieutenant,  who  had  so  innocently 
facilitated  their  design,  and  brought  them  both  out  of  the 
house.  A  horse  was  prepared  for  the  general,  and  he  was 
directed  to  mount,  which  he  at  first  seemed  willing  to  do,  and 
put  his  foot  in  the  stirrup,  but  looking  about  him  and  seeing 
only  four  enemies,  while  his  lieutenant  and  sentinel  (whom 
they  had  not  disarmed)  were  standing  by  him,  he  pulled  his 
foot  out  of  the  stirrup,  and  cried  Ar7)is  !  Arms  ! 

Upon  this,  one  of  his  enemies,  letting  fall  his  sword  and 
pistol,  —  for  he  did  not  wish  to  kill  the  general,  —  caught  hold 
of  Eainsborrow,  who  grappled  with  him,  and  both  fell  to  the 
ground.  The  general's  lieutenant  then  picked  up  the  trooper's 
pistol,  but  was  instantly  run  through  the  body  by  Paulden's 
lieutenant,  while  in  the  act  of  cocking  it.  A  third  stabbed 
Eainsborrow  in  the  neck  ;  yet  the  general  gained  his  feet  with 
the  trooper's  sword,  with  whom  he  had  been  struggling,  in  his 
hand.  The  lieutenant  of  the  party  then  passed  his  sword 
through  his  body,  when  the  brave  but  ill-fated  Eainsborrow 
fell  dead  upon  the  pavement. 

Another    of    Charlestown's   worthies    whom   we   cite    was 


14       HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

Robert  Sedgwick,  who  became  a  major-general  under  the 
Protector,  and  is  mentioned  by  Carlyle.  Sedgwick  was  a 
favorite  with  the  "  Usurper "  as  he  was  called  by  the  King's 
party,  who  sent  him  with  a  well-appointed  fleet  to  Jamaica, 
to  replace  D'Oyley,  a  cavalier,  who,  notwithstanding  his  success 
in  the  West  Indies,  was  disliked  by  Cromwell.  Cromwell  had, 
with  his  usual  astuteness,  encouraged  the  cavaliers  to  embark  in 
the  conquest  of  Jamaica,  wliere  rich  booty  was  expected  and 
whence  few  of  them  returned.  Sedgwick,  unaccustomed  to 
the  climate  and  mode  of  life,  died  before  he  had  an  oppor- 
tunity of  accomplishing  anything. 

An  original  portrait  of  Leverett  in  his  military  garb  shows 
him  to  be  every  inch  a  soldier.  He  is  painted  in  a  buff  sur- 
coat  fastened  with  steel  frogs,  and  has  a  stout  blade  Avith  steel 
hilt  and  guard  suspended  by  an  embroidered  shoulder-belt,  at 
his  thigh. 

"  His  waistcoat  Avas  of  stubborn  Buff, 
Some  say  Fuizee  and  Ponyard  proof "  ; 

his  head  is  uncovered,  and  his  curling  black  locks  and  beard 
set  off"  a  bronzed  and  martial  countenance.  Plumed  hat,  high 
jack-boots,  and  gauntlets  complete  a  military  attire  of  the 
time  by  no  means  unbecoming. 

Xathaniel  Gorham,  a  resident  of  Town  Hill,  whose  name 
appears  among  the  jDrojectors  of  Charles  River  Bridge,  was  a 
man  eminent  in  the  councils  of  the  State  and  the  nation.  He 
was  a  member  of  both  the  First  and  Second  Provincial  Con- 
gress ;  of  the  General  Court,  the  Board  of  War,  and  of  the 
State  Constitutional  Convention.  A  delegate  to  the  Conti- 
nental Congress  in  1782-83,  and  president  of  that  body  in 
1786  ;  he  was  also  a  member  of  Governor  Hancock's  council  in 
1 789,  at  the  time  of  Washington's  visit.  His  account  of  the 
difference  wlii(;h  arose  between  the  President  and  the  Governor, 
as  to  which  should  pay  the  first  visit,  and  which  it  is  believed 
is  now  for  the  first  time  in  print,  sheds  some  new  light  on  that 
affair  which  at  the  time  convulsed  all  circles  of  the  Massachu- 
setts capital.  In  regard  to  the  assertion  that  the  Governor 
expected  the  first  call,  Mr.   Gorham  says  :  — 


THE   GATEWAY    OF   OLD    MIDDLESEX.  15 

"  There  is  nothing  further  from  the  trutli  than  this  idea;  and  I  do 
not  speak  from  uncertainties,  for  the  Council  was  sitting  every  day 
for  a  week  before  the  President's  arrival,  and  met  almost  every  day 
at  the  Governor's  house  to  concert  proper  measures  for  his  reception. 
I  was  apprehensive  something  like  what  has  happened  might  take 
place,  and  proposed  that  the  address  which  the  Governor  and  Coun- 
cil had  agreed  to  make  should  be  delivered  at  Cambridge,  where  the 
Lieutenant-Governor  and  Council  first  saw  the  President,  with  a 
letter  from  the  Governor,  or  an  authorized  message,  that  his  indis- 
position prevented  his  attending  with  the  Council :  but  this  idea 
was  not  supported.  The  Governor  did  not  oppose  it,  but  on  the 
contrary  declared  in  the  most  explicit  terms  that  he  had  no  doubt 
in  his  mind  of  the  propriety  of  his  making  the  first  visit.  This  was 
on  Friday.  On  Saturday  the  President  arrived,  and  not  choosing 
to  come  up  to  the  Governor's  to  dine,  the  Lieutenant  Governor  and 
two  of  his  Council  went  down  to  his  lodgings  in  the  evening, 
authorized  by  the  Governor  to  make  the  most  explicit  declaration 
as  to  the  point  in  question-  This  brought  some  explanation  from 
the  President  by  which  it  appeared  that  he  had  been  misinformed 
as  to  the  state  of  the  Governor's  health  ;  for  he  had  been  led  to 
believe  that  the  Governor  had  dined  out  some  days  before,  and  had 
rode  out  every  day  the  preceding  week,  when  to  my  knowledge  he 
had  not  been  out  of  his  chamber.  But  the  explanation  made  by  the 
Council  on  Saturday  evening  and  the  Governor's  visit  on  Sunday 
soon  removed  every  difficulty." 

It  was  during  this  visit  that  an  incident  occurred  illustrat- 
ing Washington's  rigid  punctuality.  He  had  appointed  eight 
o'clock  in  the  morning  as  the  hour  in  wliich  he  should  set  out 
lor  Salem ;  and  while  the  Old  South  clock  was  striking  eight, 
he  was  mounting  his  horse.  The  company  of  cavalry  which 
was  to  escort  him,  not  anticipating  this  strict  punctuality,  were 
parading  in  Tremont  Street  after  his  departure ;  and  it  was  not 
until  the  President  had  reached  Charles  River  Bridge,  where 
he  stopped  a  few  minutes,  that  the  troop  overtook  him.  On 
passing  the  corps,  the  President  with  perfect  good-nature  said, 
"  Major  Gibbs,  I  thought  you  had  been  too  long  in  my  family, 
not  to  know  when  it  was  eight  o'clock."  Charlestown  was  the 
first  town  in  Massachusetts  to  institute  public  funeral  honors 
on  the  death  of  this  great  man. 


16       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

What  was  particularly  remarkable  in  Mr.  Gorham  was  his 
perspicacity  with  regard  to  the  destiny  of  the  great  West.  This 
led  him,  at  a  time  when  there  was  neither  public  nor  private 
credit,  to  purchase,  in  connection  with  Oliver  Phelps,  an  im- 
mense tract  of  land  then  belonging  to  Massachusetts,  lying  on 
the  Genesee,  in  New  York.  The  area  of  the  purchase  com- 
prises ten  or  twelve  counties  and  includes  hundreds  of  flourish- 
ing towns. 

Jedediah  Morse,  the  father  of  American  geography,  and 
minister  of  the  flrst  church  in  Charlestown  from  1789  to  1820, 
describes  Charlestown  in  his  Gazetteer  of  1797  as  containing 
two  hundred  and  fifty  houses  and  twenty-five  hundred  in- 
habitants, with  no  other  public  buildings  of  note  than  the 
Congregational  meeting-house  and  almshouse.  A  traveller 
who  visited  the  place  in  1750  says  it  then  had  two  hundred 
houses,  and  was  a  pleasant  little  town  "where  the  Bostoneers 
build  many  vessels."  The  destruction  of  the  tov/n  and  disper- 
sion of  the  inhabitants  caused  the  exemption  of  that  part  lying 
within  the  Neck,  that  is  to  say  the  peninsula,  from  furnishing 
troops  for  the  Continental  army  in  177G.  In  1784  Nathaniel 
Gorham  was  sent  to  England  on  a  singular  mission  by  the  suf- 
ferers from  the  burning  of  the  town  in  1775,  — it  being  for  no 
other  purpose  than  to  solicit  aid  for  the  consequences  of  an  act 
of  war.  The  mission  resulted  in  failure,  as  it  deserved,  and 
was  condemned  by  the  thinking  portion  of  the  community,  who 
did  not  believe  we  could  aff"ord  to  ask  alms  of  those  whom  we 
had  just  forced  to  acknowledge  our  independence. 

Dr.  Morse's  first  work  on  geography  for  the  use  of  schools 
was  prepared  at  New  Haven  in  1 784.  This  Avas  soon  followed 
by  larger  works  on  the  same  subject  and  by  gazetteers,  com- 
piled from  the  historical  and  descriptive  works  of  the  time,  and 
aided  by  travel  and  correspondence.  We  cannot  withhold  our 
astonishment  when  we  look  into  one  of  these  early  volumes ; 
for  it  is  only  by  this  means  we  realize  the  immense  strides  our 
country  has  been  taking  since  the  Revolution,  or  that  a  vast 
extent  of  territory,  then  a  wilderness,  has  now  become  the  seat 
of  political  power  for  these  states  and  the  granary  from  whence 


THE   GATEWAY   OF    OLD    MIDDLESEX.  17 

half  Europe  is  fed.  What  was  then  laid  down  as  a  desert  is  now 
seamed  by  railways  and  covered  with  cities  and  villages.  The 
early  volumes  of  the  Massachusetts  Historical  Society  contained 
many  valuable  topographical  and  descriptive  papers  contributed 
by  Drs.  Belknap,  Holmes,  Bentley,  and  others,  and  of  which 
Dr.  Morse,  an  influential  member  of  the  society,  in  all  proba- 
bility availed  himself  in  his  later  works. 

Geography  was  an  original  passion  with  Dr.  Morse,  which  it 
is  said  rendered  him  so  absent-minded  that  once,  being  asked 
by  his  teacher  at  a  Greek  recitation  where  a  certain  verb  was 
found,  he  replied,  "On  the  coast  of  Africa."  While  he  was  a 
tutor  at  Yale,  the  want  of  geographies  there  induced  him  to 
prepare  notes  for  his  pupils,  to  serve  as  text  books,  which  he 
eventually  printed.  Such  was  the  origin  of  his  labors  in  this 
field  of  learning. 

The  clergy  have  always  been  our  historians,  and  New  Eng- 
land annals  would  be  indeed  meagre,  but  for  the  efforts  of 
Hubbard,  Prince,  the  Mathers,  Belknap,  Gordon,  Morse, 
Holmes,  and  others.  As  Hutchinson  drew  on  Hubbard,  so 
all  the  writers  on  the  Revolution  derive  much  of  their  material 
from  Gordon,  whose  work,  if  it  did  not  satisfy  the  intense 
American  feeling  of  his  day,  seems  at  this  time  remarkable  for 
fairness  anil  truth.  The  meridian  of  London,  where  Dr.  Gor- 
don's work  first  appeared,  was  freely  said  to  have  impaired  his 
narrative  and  to  have  caused  the  revision  of  his  manuscript  to 
the  suppression  of  whatever  might  wound  the  susceptibilities 
of  his  English  patrons. 

Dr.  Morse  engaged  much  in  controversy,  Unitarianism  hav- 
ing begun  publicly  to  assert  itself  in  his  time,  and  in  some  in- 
stances to  obtain  control  of  the  old  Orthodox  houses  of  wor- 
ship. The  struggle  of  Dr.  Holmes  to  maintain  himself  against 
the  wave  of  new  ideas  forms  a  curious  chapter  in  religious  con- 
troversial history.  The  energy  with  which  Jedediah  ^Morse 
engaged  in  the  conflict  seriously  affected  his  health,  but  he 
kept  his  church  true  to  its  original,  time-honored  doctrines. 
Dr.  Morse,  who  was  the  townsman  and  classmate  of  Dr.  Holmes, 
is  understood  to  have  introduced  the  latter  at  Cambridge. 


18       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

On  some  occasion,  Dr.  Gardiner  of  Trinity  Church,  Boston, 
who,  by  the  way,  was  a  pupil  of  the  celebrated  Dr.  Parr,  went  to 
preach  in  the  church  at  Cambridge,  and,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
many  of  the  professors  went  to  hear  him.  Unitarianism  had  ap- 
peared in  the  Episcopal,  as  well  as  the  Congregational  Church. 

Dr.  Gardiner  began  his  discourse  somewhat  in  this  wise  : 
"  My  brethren,  there  is  a  new  science  discovered ;  it  is  called 
Biblical  criticism.  Do  you  want  to  know  what  Biblical  criti- 
cism is  ?     I  will  tell  you. 

'  0/" with  his  head  !    So  much  lor  Buckingham. '     Cooke. 
'  Off  vnth  his  head  !    So  much  for  Buckingliani. '     Kemble. 

Mr.  Cooper  says  neither  are  right,  but  that  it  should  be  ren- 
dered, '  Off  with  his  head  !  so  much  for  Buckingham  ! '  My 
friends  that  is  Biblical  criticism."  We  leave  the  reader  to 
imagine  the  effect  upon  the  grave  and  reverend  professors  of 
the  College. 

Dr.  Morse  was  sole  editor  of  the  Panoplist  from  1806  to 
1811,  and  was  prominent  in  establishing  the  Andover  Theo- 
logical Seminar5^  He  engaged  at  times  in  missionary  work, 
the  records  of  marriages  performed  by  him  at  the  Isles  of 
Shoals  being  still  in  existence  there.  One  of  his  last  labors 
was  a  visit  to  the  Indian  tribes  of  the  Northwest,  under  the 
direction  of  the  government,  a  report  of  which  he  published  in 
1832. 

At  the  time  of  the  excitement  in  New  England  against 
secret  societies,  when  the  most  direful  apprehensions  existed 
that  religion  itself  was  to  be  overthrown  by  Free-Masonry,  the 
Illuminati,  or  bugbears  of  a  similar  character,  Dr.  Morse  was 
one  of  the  overseers  of  Harvard  College  and  a  distinguished 
alarmist.  As  such,  he  opposed  with  all  his  might  the  proposal 
of  the  Phi  Beta  Kappa  Society  to  publish  "  The  Literary  Mis- 
cellany," which  afterwards  appeared  under  their  auspices.  It 
was  conjectured  that  this  literary  association,  with  its  then 
unrevealed  Greek  initials,  was  an  off-shoot  of  some  order  of 
Masonry,  and  hence  the  Doctor's  vigilance  to  prevent  the  en- 
trance of  any  corrupting  influences  within  the  walls  of  the 
seminary. 


THE   GATEWAY   OF   OLD    MIDDLESEX.  19 

The  old  parsonage  which  was  the  residence  of  Dr.  Morse 
was  situated  in  what  is  now  Harvard  Street,  between  the  City 
Hall  and  Church,  the  house  standing  quite  near  the  latter, 
while  the  garden  extended  down  the  hill  on  the  ground  now 
occupied  by  Harvard  Eow,  quite  to  the  City  Hall.  It  was  a 
two-story  wooden  house,  removed  many  years  since  from  its 
historic  site  on  the  ancient  Town  Hill. 

Dr.  Morse's  more  distinguished  son,  Samuel  Finley  Breese, 
known  to  all  the  world  for  making  electricity  the  instantaneous 
messenger  of  his  will,  has  now,  as  we  write,  been  dead  scarcely 
more  than  a  twelvemonth.  His  eulogy,  thanks  to  his  own  in- 
vention, was  pronounced  simultaneously  from  St.  Petersburg  to 
California  ;  his  memory  received  the  homage  of  crowned  heads, 
as  well  as  of  our  own  republican  court,  such  as  has  rarely,  if 
ever,  been  accorded  to  any  explorer  in  the  pathways  of  science. 
As  the  savans  of  the  Old  World  have  in  times  past  bowed  be- 
fore a  Franklin,  a  Rumford,  and  a  Bowditch,  they  have  once 
more  been  called  upon  to  inscribe  in  their  high  places  of  honor 
the  name  of  an  American. 

Samuel  F.  B.  Morse  was  not  born  at  the  parsonage,  but  in 
the  house  of  Thomas  Edes,  on  Main  Street,  to  which  Dr. 
Morse  had  removed  while  his  own  roof  was  undergoing  some 
repairs.  The  house,  which  is  also  noted  as  the  first  erected  in 
Charlestown  after  its  destruction  in  1775,  stands  at  the  corner 
of  Main  Street  Court  at  a  little  distance  from  the  Unitarian 
Church. 

Young  Morse  seconded  his  father's  passion  for  geography  by 
one  as  strongly  marked  for  drawing,  and  the  blank  margin  of 
his  Virgil  occupied  far  more  of  his  thoughts  than  the  text. 
His  penchant  for  art,  exhibited  in  much  the  same  manner  as 
Allston's,  his  future  master,  did  not  meet  with  the  same  en- 
couragement. A  caricature,  founded  upon  some  fracas  among 
the  students  at  Yale,  and  in  which  the  faculty  were  burlesqued, 
was  seized,  handed  to  President  D wight,  and  the  author,  who 
was  no  other  than  our  friend  Morse,  called  up.  The  delinquent 
received  a  severe  lecture  upon  his  waste  of  time,  violation  of 
college  laws,  and  filial  disobedience,  without  exhibiting  any 


20       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

signs  of  contrition ;  but  when  at  length  Dr.  Dwight  said  to 
him,  "  Morse  you  are  no  painter ;  this  is  a  rude  attempt,  a  com- 
plete failure,"  he  was  touched  to  the  quick,  and  could  not  keep 
back  the  tears.  On  being  questioned  by  his  fellow-students  as 
to  what  Dr.  Dwight  had  said  or  done,  "  He  says  I  am  no 
painter  !  "  roared  Morse,  cut  to  the  heart  through  his  darling 
passion. 

A  canvas,  executed  by  Morse  at  the  age  of  nineteen,  of  the 
Landing  of  the  Pilgrim's  may  be  seen  at  the  Charlestown  City 
Hall.  He  accompanied  Allston  to  Europe,  where  he  became  a 
pupil  of  West,  and,  it  is  said,  also,  of  Copley,  though  the  latter 
died  two  years  after  Morse  reached  England.  He  exhibited 
his  "Dying  Hercules"  at  the  Royal  Academy  in  1813,  re- 
ceiving subsequently  from  the  London  Adelphi  a  prize  gold 
medal  for  a  model  of  the  same  in  plaster.  In  1815  he  returned 
to  America  and  pursued  portrait  painting,  his  price  being  lifteen 
dollars  for  a  picture.  Morse  became  a  resident  of  New  York 
about  1822,  and  painted  Lafayette  when  the  latter  visited  this 
country. 

Various  accounts  have  been  given  of  the  manner  in  which 
Morse  first  imbibed  the  idea  of  making  electricity  the  means 
of  conveying  intelligence,  the  one  usually  accepted  being  that, 
while  returning  from  Europe  in  1832,  on  board  the  packet 
ship  Sully,  a  fellow-passenger  related  some  experiments  he  had 
witnessed  in  Paris  with  the  electro-magnet,  which  made  such 
an  impression  upon  one  of  his  auditors  that  he  walked  the 
deck  the  whole  night.  Professor  Morse's  own  account  was  that 
he  gained  his  knowledge  of  tlie  working  of  the  electro-magnet 
while  attending  the  lectures  of  Dr.  J.  Freeman  Dana,  then 
professor  of  chemistry  in  the  University  of  New  York,  delivered 
before  the  New  York  Athenaeum.  "  T  witnessed,"  says  Morse, 
"the  effects  of  the  conjunctive  wires  in  the  different  forms 
described  by  him  in  his  lectures,  and  exhibited  to  his  audience. 
The  electro-magnet  was  put  in  action  by  an  intensity  battery  ; 
it  was  made  to  sustain  the  weight  of  its  armature,  when  the 
conjunctive  wire  was  connected  with  the  poles  of  the  battery, 
or  the  circuit  was  closed  ;  and  it  was  made  '  to  drop  its  load ' 
upon  opening  the  circuit." 


THE   GATEWAY   OF   OLD    MIDDLESEX.  21 

Morse's  application  to  the  Twenty-Seventh  Congress  for  aid 
to  put  his  invention  to  the  test  of  practical  illustration  was 
only  carried  by  a  vote  of  eighty-nine  to  eighty-seven.  The  in- 
ventor went  to  Washington  with  exhausted  means  and  heartsick 
with  despondency.  Two  votes  saved,  perhaps,  this  Avonderful 
discovery  from  present  obscurity.  With  the  thirty  thousand 
dollars  he  obtained,  Morse  stretched  his  first  wires  from  Wash- 
ington to  Baltimore,  —  we  say  wires,  because  the  j)rinciple  of  the 
ground  circuit  was  not  then  known,  and  only  discovered,  we 
believe,  by  accident,  so  that  a  wire  to  go  and  another  to  return 
between  the  cities  was  deemed  necessary  by  Morse  to  complete 
his  first  circuit.     The  first  wire  was  of  copper. 

The  first  message,  now  in  the  custody  of  the  Connecticut 
Historical  Society,  was  dictated  by  Miss  Annie  G.  Ellsworth. 
With  trembling  hand  Morse  must  have  spelled  out  the  words, — 

"What  Hath  God  Wrought!" 
With  an  intensity  of  feeling  he  must  have  waited  for  the  ''  aye, 
aye  "  of  his  distant  correspondent.  It  was  done  ;  and  the  iron 
thread,  freighted  with  joy  or  woe  to  men  or  nations,  now  tlirobs 
responsive  to  the  delicate  touch  of  a  child.  It  now  springs  up 
from  the  desert  in  advance  of  civilization ;  its  spark  o'erleaps 
the  ocean  and  well-nigh  spans  the  globe  itself.  IS'o  man  can 
say  that  its  destiny  is  accomplished  ;  but  we  have  lived  to  grasp 
the  lightning  and  play  with  the  thunderbolt. 

The  telegraph  was  at  first  regarded  with  a  superstitious  dread 
in  some  sections  of  the  country.  Will  it  be  credited  that  in  a 
Southern  State  a  drouth  was  attributed  to  its  occult  influences, 
and  the  people,  infatuated  with  the  idea,  levelled  the  wires  with 
the  ground  ?  The  savages  of  the  plains  have  been  known  to 
lie  in  ambush  watching  the  mysterious  agent  of  the  white  man, 
and  listening  to  the  humming  of  the  wires,  which  they  vaguely 
associated  with  evil  augury  to  themselves.  So  common  was  it 
for  the  Indians  to  knock  off  the  insulators  with  their  rifles,  in 
order  to  gratify  their  curiosity  in  regard  to  the  "  singing  cord," 
that  it  was,  at  first,  extremely  difficult  to  keep  the  lines  in  re- 
pair along  the  Pacific  railway. 

As  you  go  towards  CharlestoMni  Neck,  when  about  half-way 


22       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

from  the  point  where  Main  and  Warren  Streets  unite,  you  see 
at  your  right  hand  the  old-fashioned  two-story  wooden  house 
in  which  Charlotte  Cushman  passed  some  of  her  early  life. 

She  was  born  in  Boston,  in  that  part  of  the  town  ycleped 
the  Xorth  End,  and  in  an  old  house  that  stood  within  the 
present  enclosure  of  the  Hancock  School  yard.  It  should  not 
he  forgotten  that  that  sterling  actor,  John  Gilbert,  was  born  in 
the  next  house.  Here  young  John  spoke  his  first  piece  and 
here  the  great  curtain  was  rung  up  for  little  Charlotte.  When 
the  lights  shall  be  at  last  turned  off,  and  darkness  envelop  the 
stage,  there  will  be  two  wreaths  of  immortelles  to  be  added  to 
the  tributes  which  that  famed  old  quarter  already  claims  for  its 
long  roll  of  celebrated  names. 

It  is  related  that,  when  a  child,  Charlotte  was  one  day  in- 
cautiously playing  on  Long  Wharf,  where  her  father  kept  a 
store,  and  there  feU  into  the  water.  She  was  rescued  and 
taken  home  dripping  Avet,  but  instead  of  an  ecstatic  burst  of  joy 
at  the  safety  of  her  darling,  her  mother  gave  her  a  sound  whip- 
ping. Perhaps  this  was  only  one  of  those  sudden  revulsions 
which  Tom  Hood  exemplifies  in  his  "  Lost  Heir." 

After  her  removal  to  Charlestown  Charlotte  went  to  Miss 
Austin's  school.  This  lady  was  a  relative  of  William  Austin, 
the  author  of  "  Peter  Rugg."  Charlotte  was  a  good  scholar, 
and  almost  always  had  the  badge  of  excellence  suspended  from 
her  neck.  She  was  very  strong  physically,  as  some  of  her 
schoolmates  bear  witness  to  this  day.  Although  she  displayed 
considerable  aptitude  as  a  reader,  her  predilection  was,  at  this 
time,  altogether  in  favor  of  a  musical  career,  and  she  cultivated 
her  voice  assiduously  to  that  end. 

Her  first  appearance  in  public  was  at  a  social  concert  given 
at  the  hall  No.  1  Franklin  Avenue,  in  Boston,  March  25th, 
1830,  where  she  was  assisted  by  Mr.  Farmer,  Mr.  John  F. 
Pray,  Messrs.  Stedman,  Morris,  and  others.  She  also  sang  at 
one  of  Mrs.  Wood's  Concerts,  and  that  lady,  pleased  with  her 
fine  contralto  voice,  advised  her  to  turn  her  attention  to  the 
lyric  drama.  Mr.  Maeder,  the  husband  of  Clara  Fisher,  brought 
her  out  as  the  Countess,  in  Les  Noces  de  Figaro,  in  April,  1835, 
at  the  Tremont  Theatre. 


THE    GATEWAY   OF    OLD    MIDDLESEX.  23 

Her  voice  failing,  she  determined  to  adopt  the  acting  branch 
of  the  profession,  and  studied  under  the  direction  of  W.  E. 
Burton,  the  celebrated  comedian.  Having  mastered  the  part 
of  Lady  Macbeth,  she  appeared  \Wth  complete  success  at  the 
New  York  theatres  in  this  and  other  leading  characters.  At 
this  time  she  brought  out  her  youngest  sister,  Susan,  herself 
assuming  male  parts.  She  was  manageress  of  one  of  the  Phila- 
delphia theatres  until  Mr.  Macready,  in  1844,  invited  her  to 
accompany  him  in  a  professional  tour  of  the  I^orthern  States, 
Avhich  gave  her  an  opportunity  of  displaying  her  tragic  powers 
to  advantage. 

During  her  tour  with  Macready,  she  played  in  Boston  at  the 
Old  Melodeon,  with  scarcely,  a  single  voice  of  the  press  raised 
in  her  favor.  Her  benefit,  at  which  the  tragedian,  with  charac- 
teristic littleness,  refused  to  appear,  was  a  pecuniary  loss  to  her. 
But  it  was  during  this  trip  that  Macready  said  to  her  one  day, 
in  his  brusque,  pompous  way,  "  Girl,  you  would  do  well  in 
London."  This  remark  was  not  lost  on  the  quick-witted 
Yankee  maiden. 

The  next  year  found  her  in  London,  but  she  had  kept  her 
own  counsel,  and  even  Mr.  Macready  did  not  know  her  inten- 
tion. In  vain,  however,  she  solicited  an  engagement,  for  she 
had  neither  fame  nor  beauty  to  recommend  her.  But  at  last, 
when  she  had  spent  almost  her  last  farthing,  —  except  the  little 
sum  at  her  banker's,  laid  aside  to  take  her  back  home  in  case 
all  else  should  Ml,  —  a  ray  of  hope  appeared.  Maddocks,  the 
manager  of  the  Princess's  Theatre,  proposed  to  her  to  appear  in 
company  with  Mr.  Forrest,  who  was  then,  like  herself,  seeking 
an  opening  at  the  London  theatres.  The  shrewd  manager 
thought  that  perhaps  two  American  Stars  might  fill  his  house. 

Charlotte's  reply  was  characteristic  of  her  acuteness.  "  Give 
me,"  she  said  to  the  manager,  "  a  chance  first.  If  I  succeed,  I 
can  well  afford  to  play  with  Mr.  Forrest ;  if  I  fail,  I  shall  be 
only  too  glad  to  do  so."  She  made  her  debut  as  Bianca  in 
Fazio.  The  first  act,  in  which  the  dialogue  is  tame,  passed  off 
ominously.  The  audience  were  attentive,  but  undemonstrative. 
The  actress  retired  to  her  dressing-room  much  depressed  with 


24       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

the  fear  of  failure.  "  This  will  never  do,  Sally,"  she  remarked 
to  her  negro  waiting-maid,  then  and  still  her  affectionate  at- 
tendant. 

"  IS'o,  indeed,  it  won't,  miss ;  but  you  '11  fetch  um  bimeby," 
said  the  faithful  creature.  The  play  quietly  proceeded  until 
Bianca  spoke  the  lines,  — 

"Fazio,  thoic  hast  seen  Alddbella!" 

Those  words,  in  which  love,  anger,  and  jealousy  were  all 
struggling  for  the  mastery,  uttered  with  indescribable  accent 
and  energy,  startled  the  audience  out  of  its  well-bred,  cold- 
blooded propriety ;  cheers  filled  the  house,  and  Miss  Cushman 
remained  mistress  of  the  situation. 

She  afterwards  appeared  in  conjunction  with  Mr.  Forrest;  but 
that  gentleman,  who  had  then  for  the  nonce  put  a  curb  upon 
his  fashion  of  tearing  a  passion  to  tatters,  was  overshadowed  by 
her.  Forrest  resented  the  preference  of  the  public  by  extreme 
rudeness  to  Charlotte  on  the  stage,  and  by  various  unfriendly 
acts,  which  caused  a  rupture  that  was  never  healed.  Forrest 
played  Othello  on  the  occasion  above  mentioned,  Miss  Cush- 
man sustaining  the  part  of  Emilia.  Her  performance  was 
throughout  intelligent,  impressive,  natural,  without  any  strain- 
ing after  effect ;  while  her  energy,  at  times,  completely  carried 
the  audience  along  with  her. 

By  the  friendship  of  Charles  Kemble  and  of  Mr.  Phelps  of 
Sadler's  Wells  she  attracted  the  favorable  notice  of  royalty. 
It  is  a  fact  as  singular  as  it  is  true,  that,  on  her  return  from 
England,  Boston,  the  city  of  her  birth,  was  the  only  place  in 
which  she  did  not  at  once  meet  a  cordial  reception ;  but  her 
talents  compelled  their  own  recognition  and  buried  the  few 
paltry  detractors  out  of  sight.  She  appeared  at  the  Federal 
Street  Theatre  and  won  an  enthusiastic  verdict  of  popular  favor 
within  that  old  temple  of  histrionic  art. 

The  part  in  which  Miss  Cushman  has  achieved  her  greatest 
reputation  in  this  country  is  that  of  Meg  Merrilies  in  "  Guy 
Mannering,"  a  creation  peculiarly  her  own.  The  character,  not- 
withstanding its  repulsive  features,  becomes  in  her  hands  weird. 


THE   GATEWAY   OF   OLD    MIDDLESEX.  25 

terrible,  and  fascinating.  Her  somewhat  masculine  physique 
and  angular  physiognomy  have  given  more  character  to  the  as- 
sumption of  such  male  parts  as  Ion  and  Borneo  than  is  usually 
the  case  with  her  sex.  But  Miss  Cushman  is  a  real  artiste, 
limited  to  no  narrow  sphere  of  her  calling.  She  could  play 
Queen  Catharine  and  Mrs.  Simpson  in  the  same  evening  with 
equal  success,  and  retains  in  no  small  degree,  though  verging 
on  threescore,  the  energy  and  dramatic  force  of  her  palmy 
days. 

At  the  opening  of  the  Cushman  School  in  Boston,  Charlotte 
made  an  extempore  address  to  the  scholars,  in  which  she  ex- 
plained to  them  her  grand  principle  of  action  and  the  secret  of 
her  success.  " Whatever  you  have  to  do,"  she  said,  "do  it 
with  all  your  might." 


26       HISTOKIC    FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 


CHAPTEE    IL 

AN  HOUR  IN  THE  GOVERNMENT  DOCKYARD. 

"  There,  where  your  argosies  with  portly  sail,— 
Like  sigiiiors  and  rich  burghers  on  the  flood, 
Or,  as  it  Avere,  tlie  pageants  of  the  sea, — 
Do  over-peer  the  petty  traffickers." 

Merchant  of  Venice. 

THERE  is  a  singular  fascination  in  viewing  objects  created 
expressly  for  our  destruction.  The  wounded  soldier  will 
make  the  most  convulsive  efforts  to  see  the  place  where  he  has 
been  struck,  and  if  the  leaden  bullet  which  has  so  nearly  threat- 
ened his  life  be  placed  in  his  hand,  he  regards  it  thereafter  with 
a  strange,  unaccountable  affection.  So,  Avhen  we  tind  ourselves 
within  the  government  dockyard  we  cannot  pass  by  the  rows 
of  cannon  gleaming  in  the  sunshine,  or  the  pyramids  of  shot 
and  shell,  without  wondering  how  many  they  are  destined  to 
destroy.  We  have  not  yet  learned  to  dispense  with  war,  and 
the  problem  "  How  to  kill "  yet  taxes  the  busiest  brain,  the 
most  inventive  genius. 

Somehow,  too,  there  is  a  certain  consciousness  the  moment 
you  set  foot  Avithin  any  little  strip  of  territory  over  which 
Uncle  Sam  exercises  exclusive  authority.  The  trig,  pipe-clayed 
marine  j^aces  stiffly  up  and  down  before  the  entrance,  hugging 
his  shining  musket  as  if  it  Avere  a  piece  of  himself,  and  looking 
straight  before  him,  though  you  would  feel  yourself  more  at 
ease  if  he  would  look  at  you.  The  officer  you  see  coming,  in 
the  laced  cap,  and  to  whom  you  would  fain  address  yourself, 
never  allows  your  eye  to  meet  his  own,  but  marches  straight 
on,  as  he  would  do  if  he  were  going  to  storm  a  battery.  The 
workmen,  even,  pursue  their  labor  without  the  cheerful  cries  and 
chaffinf]j  which  enliven  the  toil  of  their  brethren  outside.     The 


Ill  lIMHllllil 


■ 


aft 


AN  HOUR  IN  THE  GOVERNMENT  DOCKYARD.     27 

calkers'  mallets  seem  to  click  in  unison,  the  carpenters  chip 
thoughtfully  away  on  the  live-oak  frame.  Everything  is  syste- 
matic, orderly,  and  precise,  but  rather  oppressive  withal. 

In  the  first  years  of  the  nation's  existence  the  government 
was  obliged  to  make  use  of  private  yards,  and  that  of  Edmund 
Hartt,  in  Boston,  may  be  considered  the  progenitor  of  this. 
Several  vessels  of  the  old  navy,  among  them  the  famed  Con- 
stitution, were  built  there,  under  supervision  of  officers  ap- 
pointed by  the  government.  Henry  Jackson,  formerly  colonel 
of  the  Sixteenth  Continental  Eegiment,  was  appointed  naval 
agent  by  his  bosom  friend,  General  Knox,  when  the  latter  was 
Secretary  of  War,  and  Caleb  Gibbs,  first  commander  of  Wash- 
ington's famous  body-guard,  was  made  naval  storekeeper,  -with  an 
office  in  Batterymarch  Street,  Boston.  The  yard  at  the  bottom 
of  Milk  Street  was  also  used  for  naval  purposes  by  the  govern- 
ment. 

When  Admiral  Montague  of  the  royal  navy  was  stationed  in 
our  waters,  he  caused  a  survey  of  the  harbor  to  be  made,  and  is 
reported  on  good  authority  to  have  then  said,  "  The  devil  got 
into  the  government  for  placing  the  naval  depot  at  Halifax.  God 
Almighty  made  I^oddle's  Island  on  purpose  for  a  dockyard." 

In  1799  the  government  despatched  Mr.  Joshua  Humphries, 
the  eminent  naval  architect,  to  Boston,  to  examine  the  pro- 
posed sites.  The  report  was  favorable  to  Charlestown,  much 
to  the  chagrin  of  the  proprietors  of  Noddle's  Island,  now  East 
Boston,  who  had  reckoned  on  a  different  decision.  As  Mr. 
John  Harris,  the  principal  owner  of  the  tract  selected,  and 
Dr.  Putnam,  the  government  agent,  were  unable  to  agree  upon 
terms,  the  affair  was  decided  by  a  decree  of  the  Middlesex 
Court  of  Sessions. 

The  purchase  made  by  the  United  States  was  originally 
called  Moulton's  Point,  from  Eobert  Moulton,  the  ship- carpen- 
ter ;  it  has  also  been  indifferently  styled  Moreton's  and  Morton's 
Point,  in  connection  with  accounts  of  the  battle  of  Bunker 
Hill,  it  being  the  place  where  Howe's  main  body  landed  on 
that  day.  The  site  also  embraced  what  was  known  in  old 
times  as  Dirty  Marsh.     The  point  was  quite  early  selected  for 


28       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

a  fortification,  and  a  small  battery,  or,  as  it  was  then  called,  a 
sconce,  was  thrown  up,  and  armed  with  light  pieces.  The  guns 
were  secretly  removed  by  the  patriots  in  the  autumn  of  1774, 
without  exciting  the  least  suspicion  of  what  was  taking  place 
on  board  the  British  vessels  of  war  in  the  stream.  Upon  the 
evacuation  of  Boston  this  was  one  of  the  points  which  Wash- 
ington directed  his  chief  of  artillery  to  fortify. 

That  part  of  the  town  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  yard  was 
long  ago  called  Wapping,  a  circumstance  which  it  has  been 
thought  proper  to  distinguish  by  a  street  of  that  name.  In  the 
days  of  the  Great  Rebellion  this  now  unsavory  locaHty  could 
not  have  been  much  inferior  to  its  prototype  by  the  Thames, 
and  poor  Jack,  in  making  his  exit  from  the  yard  after  a  long 
cruise,  had  to  run  the  gauntlet  of  all  the  merciless  land-sharks 
that  infested  the  place.  At  one  time,  however,  the  neighbor- 
hood was  of  quite  a  different  cast,  and  some  of  the  artisans 
of  the  yard  found  a  convenient  residence  here ;  among  others, 
Josiah  Barker,  for  thirty-four  ye^irs  the  distinguished  naval  con- 
structor at  this  station,  lived  in  Wapping  Street,  in  a  house  still 
standing  on  the  north  side  of  the  street  as  you  approach  the 
yard  from  Chelsea  Street. 

The  first  records  of  this  station  begin  in  1815,  when  an 
aggregate  of  forty-four  officers  and  men  was  borne  on  the 
rolls,  while  it  is  said  as  many  as  six  thousand  were  employed 
here  during  the  Rebellion.  In  the  beginning  of  the  year  men- 
tioned, which  was  just  at  the  conclusion  of  war  with  Great 
Britain,  there  was  but  a  single  wharf  in  the  yard.  The 
frigates  Congress,  Macedonian,  Constitution,  the  seventy-fours 
Washington  and  Independence,  and  the  brig  Chippewa  were 
then  lying  here. 

A  lady  who  visited  the  yard  in  1824,  and  recorded  her  impres- 
sions, gives  a  somewhat  humorous  account  of  the  difficulties  she 
encountered.     She  says  :  — 

"The  United  States  Navy- Yard  is  likewise  located  in  Charles- 
town.  A  few  marines  are  also  stationed  here  ;  the  most  triflmg, 
abandoned-looking  men,  from  their  appearance,  to  be  found.  I 
applied  to  the  Commandant,  Major  W ,  for  liberty  to  inspect  the 


AN  HOUR  IN  THE  GOVERNMENT  DOCKYARD.     29 

interior  of  the  yard,  but  this  haughty  bashaw  sent  word  '/le  was  en- 
gaged, and  that  I  must  report  my  business  to  the  lieutenant/  —  rather 
a  reproach  to  Uncle  Sam.  As  in  duty  bound,  I  obeyed  his  high- 
ness, and  called  on  the  lieutenant,  whom  I  found  unt[ualified  to  give 
the  information  I  wished  to  obtain  ;  and,  after  undergoing  sundry 
indignities  from  these  mighty  men  of  war,  I  had  to  give  up  the 
design." 

Commodore  Samuel  Nicholson  was  the  first  commandant  of 
the  yard,  and  the  somewhat  peculiar  architecture  of  the  house 
used  as  a  residence  by  the  commodores  is  a  specimen  of  his 
taste,  — 

' '  The  brave  old  commodore, 
The  rum  old  commodore." 

When  the  Constitution  was  building,  Nicholson,  who  was  to 
have  her,  exercised  a  general  supervision  over  her  construction  ; 
though,  notwithstanding  anything  that  has  been  said,  Colonel 
George  Claghorn  was  the  principal  and  authorized  constructor. 

In  consequence  of  the  narrow  limits  of  Hartt's  Yard,  it  had 
been  agreed  that  no  spectators  should  be  admitted  on  the  day 
previous  to  that  fixed  for  the  launch,  v/ithout  the  permission 
of  Captain  Kicholson,  Colonel  Claghorn,  or  General  Jackson. 
While  the  workmen  were  at  breakfast  Colonel  Claghorn  had 
admitted  some  ladies  and  gentlemen  to  view  the  ship,  but  when 
they  attempted  to  go  on  board  Nicholson  forbade  their  enter- 
ing. This  was  communicated  to  Colonel  Claghorn.  In  the  af- 
ternoon of  the  same  da}^  some  visitors  who  had  been  denied  an 
entrance  to  the  ship  by  Nicholson  were  admitted  by  Claghorn, 
who,  however,  was  not  aware  that  they  had  been  previously 
refused  permission.  The  captain,  who  was  furious  when  he 
saw  the  men  he  had  just  turned  away  approaching,  exclaimed 
to  Claghorn,  "  D — n  it !  do  you  know  whom  you  have  admitted, 
and  that  I  have  just  refused  them  ? "  The  latter  replied  that 
he  did  not  know  that  circumstance,  but,  having  passed  his 
word,  they  might  go  on  board.  The  whole  party  being  assem- 
bled on  the  Constitution's  deck,  Colonel  Claghorn  went  up  to 
the  captain  and  desired,  with  some  heat,  that  he  might  not  treat 
these  visitors  as  he  had  done  the  ladies  in  the  morning;  to 


30       HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

which  Nicholson  replied  that  he  should  say  no  more  to  them, 
but  that  he  had  a  right  to  command  on  board  his  own  ship. 
To  this  Claghorn  rejoined  that  he  commanded  on  board  the 
ship,  and  that  if  Captain  I^icholson  did  not  like  the  regula- 
tions, he  might  go  out  of  her.  Upon  this  the  parties  im- 
mediately collared  each  other,  and  ^N'icholson,  who  carried  a 
cane,  attempted  to  strike  his  adversary,  but  the  bystanders  in- 
terfered and  separated  the  belligerents.  The  affair  was  settled 
by  mutual  apologies.  Nicholson  died  in  Charlestown  in  1811, 
and  was  buried  under  Christ  Church,  in  Boston.  It  was  said 
that  Preble,  who  was  appointed  to  the  Constitution  under  Nich- 
olson, declined  serving  with  him,  and  expressed  doubts  of  his 
courage.  General  Knox's  son,  Henry  Jackson  Knox,  was  a 
midshipman  on  board  Old  Ironsides  on  her  first  cruise. 

Hull  was  one  of  the  early  commanders  of  the  yard.  The 
receiving-ship  Ohio,  now  at  this  station,  carried  his  flag  in  the 
Mediterranean  in  1839.  Bainbridge  was  commandant  at  the 
time  of  Lafayette's  A^isit  in  1824.  These  two  men,  famous  in 
the  annals  of  the  American  Navy,  could  conquer  their  invinci- 
ble adversaries  yard-arm  to  yard-arm,  and  afterwards  gain  their 
hearts  by  the  most  kindly  offices  to  them  while  prisoners. 
Dacres,  whom  Hull  captured  in  the  Guerriere,  became  his  friend 
in  after  time.  We  may  here  relate  an  episode  of  Bainbridge 
and  the  Java. 

Early  in  1845  the  Constitution,  then  commanded  by  Mad 
Jack  Percival,  cast  anchor  in  the  roadstead  of  Singapore.  She 
had  on  her  way  taken  out  Henry  A.  Wise,  our  minister  to 
Brazil,  and  was  on  special  service  in  the  East  Indies  and 
Pacific.  The  vertical  rays  of  a  tropic  sun  and  the  deadly 
breezes  of  the  African  coast  had  made  a  hospital  of  the  ship ; 
her  gun-deck  on  the  starboard  side  was  hung  with  cots  and 
hammocks.  The  captain  had  given  up  the  forward  cabin  to 
the  sick.  The  exterior  of  the  old  invincible  responded  mourn- 
fully to  the  interior.  Her  hull  had  been  painted  a  dull  lead- 
color  at  Rio,  faintly  enlivened  by  a  red  streak;  but  a  long  pas- 
sage across  the  Indian  Ocean  had  brought  her  old  sable  color 
here  and  there  into  view,  while  the  streaks  of  iron-rust  down 
her  sides  told  her  condition  but  too  plainly. 


AN  HOUR  IN  THE  GOVERNMENT  DOCKYARD.     31 

Before  the  anchor  was  let  go  a  boat  with  an  officer  from 
H.  B.  M.  frigate  Cambrian  came  alongside  with  the  compliments 
and  friendly  offers  of  Commodore  Chads.  The  officer's  return 
brought  the  gallant  commodore  on  board  the  Constitution.  He 
was  a  fine-looking  man  of  about  fifty,  more  than  six  feet,  per- 
fectly erect,  and  as  he  stepped  over  the  gangway  he  simulta- 
neously saluted  the  officers  who  received  him,  at  the  same  time 
surveying  the  ship  fore  and  aft,  and  alow  and  aloft.  The  spar- 
deck  of  the  old  ship  looked  passing  well,  and  the  commodore's 
scrutiny  Avas  not  at  all  mortifying.  He  then  descended  to  the 
cabin,  where  Captain  Percival  received  him  on  crutches. 

"  I  have  hastened  on  board  your  ship,"  said  Commodore 
Chads,  "  to  offer  my  services,  having  heard  you  were  sick,  as 
well  as  many  of  your  people  ;  and  I  have  brought  my  surgeon, 
who  has  been  long  out  here,  and  is  familiar  with  the  diseases 
of  India." 

He  then  inquired  if  this  was  the  same  ship  called  the  Con- 
stitution in  1813.  Having  been  told  that  she  was  the  same  in 
model,  battery,  and  internal  arrangements,  although  rebuilt,  he 
said  he  was  very  glad  to  meet  her  again  ;  that  she  was  an  old 
acquaintance ;  and  that  in  the  action  of  the  Java  he  had  the 
honor  to  fight  her  after  Captain  Lambert  was  disabled ;  and 
that,  although  he  had  hauled  down  his  colors  to  the  Constitu- 
tion, there  were  no  reminiscences  more  pleasing  to  him  than 
those  resulting  from  the  skill,  gallantry,  and  bravery  of  the 
noble  Bainbridge  during  and  after  the  action.  "  The  Constitu- 
tion, sir,  was  manoeuvred  in  a  masterly  manner,  and  it  made  me 
regret  that  she  was  not  British.  It  was  Greek  meet  Greek,  for 
we  were  the  same  blood,  after  all."  These  particulars  are  from 
a  letter  supposed  to  have  been  from  the  pen  of  Mr.  Ballestier, 
our  Consul  at  Singapore.  Mrs.  Ballestier,  who  accompanied 
her  husband  to  the  East  Indies,  was  a  daughter  of  the  famous 
Paul  Revere. 

Commodore  Hull  was  rather  short  and  thick-set,  with  a 
countenance  deeply  bronzed  by  long  exposure  to  sun  and 
weather,  he  having  gone  to  sea  when  a  boy.  He  was  a  man 
of  plain,  unassuming  manners,  and  rather  silent  than  loquacious. 


32       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

Cooper,  who  knew  him  well,  describes  him  as  one  of  the  most 
skilful  seamen  of  history,  remarkable  for  coolness  in  moments 
of  danger.  He  seldom  mentioned  his  exploits,  but  sometimes, 
when  the  famous  action  with  the  Guerriere  was  alluded  to,  he 
would  speak  with  enthusiasm  of  the  beautiful  day  in  August 
on  which  that  battle  was  fought. 

The  two  Commodores  Hull,  uncle  and  nephew,*  married  sis- 
ters belonging  to  the  family  of  Hart,  of  Saybrook,  Connecticut, 
and  remarkable  for  their  beauty.  Another  sister  married  Hon. 
Heman  Allen,  of  Vermont,  at  one  time  minister  to  Chili; 
while  still  another  was  the  wife  of  Rev.  Dr.  Jarvis  of  St.  Paul's, 
Boston.  The  most  beautiful  of  the  sisters,  Jeanette,  never  mar- 
ried, but  went  to  Rome  and  became  a  nun.  She  is  said  to 
have  been,  in  her  day,  the  handsomest  woman  in  America. 
Another  nephew  of  Isaac  Hull  was  the  late  Admiral  Andrew 
Hull  Foote,  who  was  so  greatly  distinguished  in  the  early  part 
of  the  Rebellion,  receiving,  at  Fort  Donelson,  a  wound  that 
eventually  contributed  to  cause  his  death. 

It  appears,  from  excellent  authority,  that  the  original  draft 
of  the  Constitution  was  changed  at  the  suggestion  of  Colonel 
George  Claghorn,  who  ought  therefore  to  be  regarded  as  the 
person  most  entitled  to  the  credit  of  having  created  the  pride  of 
the  navy,  as  it  was  to  him  her  construction  was  confided.  The 
subject  of  an  alteration  in  her  dimensions  had  been  verbally 
broached  to  the  Secretary  of  War  —  who  also  presided  over 
our  infant  marine  at  that  time  —  when  he  was  in  Boston  in 
1794.  General  Knox  consented,  in  presence  of  the  agent.  Gen- 
eral Jackson  ;  but  Claghorn,  having  been  a  soldier,  was  not 
satisfied  until  he  obtained  the  authority  in  writing. 

At  the  festival  in  Faneuil  Hall  given  to  Captain  Hull  on  his 
return  from  the  fight  with  the  Guerriere,  Ex- President  Adams, 
who,  on  account  of  his  infirmities  was  unable  to  be  present, 
sent  the  following  toasts,  which  were  read  by  Hon.  Samuel 
Dexter  :  — 

"  May  every  commodore  in  our  navy  soon  be  made  an  admiral, 
and  every  captain  a  commodore,  with  ships  and  squadrons  worthy 

*  Commodore  Joseph  B.  Hull. 


AN  HOUK  IN  THE  GOVERNMENT  DOCKYARD.      33 

of  their  conimarulers  and  worthy  of  the  wealth,  power,  and  dignity 
of  their  country.     Proh  dolor  !     Proh  pudor  ! " 

"  Talbot,  Truxtim,  Decatur,  Little,  Preble,  —  had  their  country 
given  them  the  means,  they  would  have  been  Blakes,  Drakes,  and 
Nelsons." 

On  her  return  to  port  from  this  cruise  the  Constitution  spoke 
the  Dolphin  and  Decatur,  privateers,  the  latter  of  which,  think- 
ing she  was  pursued  by  an  enemy,  threw  her  guns  overboard. 
It  is  at  least  a  coincidence  that  the  news  of  the  surrender  of 
Detroit  by  General  Hull  should  have  reached  Boston  only  a 
few  hours  after  the  arrival  of  his  nephew,  Captain  Hull,  from 
his  successful  combat.  Shubrick  commanded  the  yard  in  1825, 
Crane  in  1826,  and  Morris  from  1827  to  1833,  when  he  was 
succeeded  by  Jesse  D.  Elliott. 

The  park  of  naval  artillery  bears  as  little  resemblance  to  the 
cannon  of  a  century  ago  as  do  the  war-ships  of  to-day  to  those 
commanded  by  Manley,  Jones,  or  Hopkins.  No  event  will 
better  illustrate  the  advance  in  gunnery  than  the  battle  be- 
tween the  Kearsarge  and  Alabama,  off  Cherbourg.  The  naval 
tactics  of  the  first  period  were  to  lay  a  ship  alongside  her  ad- 
versary, and  then  let  courage  and  hard  lighting  win  the  day. 
But  nowadays  close  actions  are  avoided,  or  considered  unneces- 
sary, and  instances  of  individual  gallantry  become  more  rare. 
Ships  toss  their  heavy  shot  at  each  other  a  mile  away,  without 
the  least  knowledge  of  the  damage  they  inflict,  and  Old  Shy- 
lock  is  now  only  half  right  when  he  says, 

"  Ships  are  but  boards,  sailors  but  men," 

for  iron  succeeds  oak,  though  no  substitute  is  yet  found  for 
bone  and  muscle. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  Eevolution  cannon  was  the  most 
essential  thing  wanted.  Ships  were  built  and  manned  with 
alacrity,  but  aU  kinds  of  shifts  were  made  to  supply  them 
with  guns.  A  fleet  of  privateers  was  soon  afloat  in  the  waters 
of  Massachusetts  Bay,  and  public  vessels  were  on  the  stocks, 
but  how  they  were  armed  may  be  inferred  from  the  following 
extract  from  a  letter  dated  at  Boston,  September  1,  177()  :  — 

2*  C 


34       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

"  There  is  so  great  a  demand  for  guns  here  for  fitting  out  priva- 
teers that  those  old  things  that  used  to  stick  in  the  ground,  particu- 
larly at  Bowes's  Corner,*  Admiral  Vernon,  etc.,  have  been  taken 
up,  and  sold  at  an  immoderate  price  ;  that  at  Mr.  Bowes's  was  sold 
by  Mr.  Jones  for  fifty  dollars.  I  imagine  it  will  spit  in  the  first 
attempt  to  fire  it." 

The  Hancock,  which  was  the  second  Continental  frigate 
launched,  and  was  commanded  by  Captain  Manley,  as  well  as 
the  Old  Boston  frigate,  Captain  McNeill,  were  both  armed  with 
guns,  chiefly  nine-pomiders,  taken  from  the  works  in  Boston 
harbor,  and  furnished  by  Massachusetts.  The  Hancock  was 
built  and  launched  at  Newburyjjort,  and  not  at  Boston,  as  has 
been  stated.  Manley,  the  first  sea  officer  to  attack  the  enemy 
on  that  element,  received  in  1792  a  compensation  of  ,£150, 
and  a  pension  of  £  9  per  month  for  life. 

Unlike  the  celebrated  English  dockyard  and  arsenal  at  Wool- 
wich, our  dockyards  are  only  utilized  for  naval  purposes,  while 
the  former  is  the  depot  for  the  royal  horse  and  foot  artillery 
and  the  royal  sappers  and  miners,  with  vast  magazines  of 
great  guns,  mortars,  bombs,  powder,  and  other  warlike  stores. 
The  Eoyal  Military  Academy  was  erected  in  the  arsenal,  but 
was  not  completely  formed  until  1 745,  in  the  reign  of  George 
11.  It  would  seem  that  the  same  system  might  be  advan- 
tageously carried  out  in  this  country,  so  far  as  the  corps  of 
engineers  and  artillery  are  concerned,  with  the  benefit  of  com- 
bining practical  with  theoretical  instruction  upon  those  points 
where  there  exists  an  identity  of  interest  in  the  military  and 
naval  branches  of  the  service. 

The  area  of  the  great  British  dockyard  is  about  the  same  as 
that  of  the  Charlestown  yard,  but  in  depth  of  water  in  front 
the  latter  has  greatly  the  advantage,  the  Thames  being  so  shal- 
low at  Woolwich  that  large  ships  are  now  chiefly  constructed  at 
the  other  naval  ports.  We  may  here  mention  that  Woolwich 
is  the  most  ancient  arsenal  in  Great  Britain,  men-of-war  having 
been  built  there  as  early  as  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.,  when  the 
Harry  Grace  de  Dieu  was  constructed  in  1512.     The  Eoyal 

*  Soutli  Corner  of  State  and  Washington  Streets. 


AN  HOUR  IN  THE  GOVERNMENT  DOCKYARD. 


35 


THE   GREAT    HARRY. 


George,  iu  which  Kempenfelt  went  down  at  Spithead,  and  the 
Nelson,  Trafalgar,  and  other  first-rates,  were  also  built  at  Wool- 
wich. 

When  we  look  around  upon  the  wonderful  progress  of  the 
steam  marine 
during  the  past 
(quarter  of  a  cen- 
tury, and  reflect 
upon  its  possibil- 
ities, the  predic- 
tion of  the  cele- 
brated Dr.  Dio- 
nysius  Lardner, 
that  steam  could 
never  be  proflt- 
ably  employed 
in  ocean  naviga- 
tion, seems  incredible.  Thirty  years  ago  this  was  demonstrated 
by  the  Doctor  with  facts  and  figures,  models  and  diagrams. 

In  the  summer  of  1781  the  port  of  Boston  was  almost  sealed 
by  the  constant  presence  of  British  cruisers  in  the  bay,  who  took 
many  valuable  prizes  and  brought  several  mercantile  houses  to 
the  verge  of  ruin.  The  merchants  accordingly  besought  Ad- 
miral Le  Compte  de  Barras  to  send  some  of  his  frigates  from 
Newport  round  to  Boston  ;  but  the  Count  replied  that  the  efforts 
already  made  to  induce  his  men  to  desert  and  engage  on  board 
privateers  compelled  him  to  refuse  the  request.  The  merchants 
then  sent  a  committee  composed  of  Messrs.  Sears,  Broome, 
Breck,  and  others,  to  assure  the  Count  that  his  men  should  not 
be  taken  under  any  circumstances. 

The  Count's  compliance  resulted  in  the  loss  of  one  of  his 
ships,  the  Magicienne,  of  thirty-two  guns,  which  was  taken  by 
the  Assurance,  a  British  two-decker,  in  Boston  harbor.  The 
action  was  so  plainly  visible  from  the  wharves  of  the  town, 
that  the  French  colors  were  seen  to  be  struck  and  the  English 
hoisted  in  their  stead.  The  French  ships  Sagittaire,  fifty 
guns,  Astrie,  thirty- two,  and  Hermione,  thirty-two,  were  in  the 


HISTORIC   FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 


iiarbor  when  the 
battle  commenced, 
and  immediately  got 
under  weigh  to  go 
to  the  assistance  of 
their  consort ;  but 
tlie  wind  being  light 
and  the  Sagittaire 
a  dull  sailer,  the 
enemy  escaped  with 
his  prize.  Many 
Bostonians  went  on 
])()ard  the  French 
ships  as  volujiteers 
in  the  expected  ac- 
tion. Colonel  Da- 
vid Sears  was  among 
the  number  who 
joined  the  Astrie  in 
the  ex])ectation  of 
enjoying  some  di- 
version of  this  sort. 
The  merchants  of 
Boston  afterwards 
gave  a  splendid  din- 
ner to  the  ]Marquis 
de  Gergeroux,  the 
commander  of  the 
French  fleet,  and  liis 
officers,  for  the  ser- 
vices rendered  in 
keeping  the  bay 
clear  of  the  enemy's 
(jruisers. 

Nelson,  who  in 
1782  was  ordered 
to  cruise  in  the 
Albemarle    on    the 


AN  HOUR  IN  THE  GOVERNMENT  DOCKYARD.      37 

American  station,  fell  in  with  a  fishing  schooner  on  our  coast, 
which  he  captured,  but  the  master,  having  piloted  the  cruiser 
into  Boston  Bay,  was  released  with  his  vessel  and  the  following 
certificate  :  — 

"  This  is  to  certify  that  I  took  the  schooner  Harmony,  Nathaniel 
Carver,  master,  belonging  to  Plymouth,  but  on  account  of  his  good 
services  Iiua'c  given  him  up  his  vessel  again. 

"Dated  on  board  His  Majesty's  ship  Albemarle, 
17th  August,  1782. 

"  Horatio  Nelson." 

The  grateful  man  afterwards  came  off  to  the  Albemarle,  at 
the  hazard  of  his  life,  bringing  a  present  of  sheep,  poultry,  and 
other  fresh  provisions,  —  a  most  welcome  supply,  for  the  scurvy 
was  raging  on  board.  Nelson  exhibited  a  similar  trait  of 
nobility  in  releasing  two  officers  of  Rochambeau's  army,  who 
were  captured  in  a  boat  in  the  West  Indies  while  on  some  ex- 
cursion. Count  Deux-Ponts  was  one  and  Isidore  Lynch  the 
other  captive.  Nelson  gave  them  a  capital  dinner,  and  the 
wine  ha^dng  got  into  their  heads,  the  secret  imprudently  came 
out  that  Lynch  was  of  English  birth.  The  poor  prisoners  were 
thunderstruck  at  the  discovery,  but  Nelson,  without  appearing 
tb  have  overheard  the  indiscretion,  set  both  at  liberty. 

It  sounds  somewhat  strangely  at  this  time  to  recall  the  fact 
that  the  United  States  once  paid  tribute  to  the  ruler  of  a  horde 
of  pirates,  to  induce  him  to  hold  oft'  his  hands  from  our  com- 
merce ;  and  that  our  captured  crews  were  sold  into  slavery  or 
held  for  ransom  at  the  behest  of  a  turbaned  barbarian.  Six 
thousand  stand  of  arms,  four  field-pieces,  and  a  quantity  of 
gunpowder  was  the  price  of  the  peace  granted  by  the  Dey  of 
Algiers  to  America  in  1795.  In  May,  1794,  an  exhibition  was 
given  at  the  Boston  Theatre  for  the  relief  of  our  countrymen, 
prisoners  in  Algiers,  which  realized  about  nine  hundred  dollars. 
Dominie  Terry  &  Co.  advanced  $3,000  for  the  maintenance  of 
these  prisoners,  without  security. 

Of  the  early  command(3rs  of  our  navy  Hopkins  was  de- 
scribed in  1776  as  an  antiquated-looking  person,  with  a  strong 


38       HISTOKIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

ideal  resemblance  to  Van  Tromp.  He  appeared  at  first  an- 
gelic, says  our  authority,  until  he  swore,  and  then  the  illusion 
vanished.  Hopkins  commanded  the  first  American  squadron 
that  set  sail  from  our  shores,  and  carried  the  colony  flag  at  his 
gaff. 


Paul  Jones  had  the  honor  not  only  of  hoisting  with  his  own 
hands  the  American  flag  on  board  the  Alfred,  in  1775,  which 
he  says  was  then  displayed  for  the  first  time,  but  of  receiving 
in  the  Ranger  the  first  salute  to  that  flag  liy  a  foreign  power 
from  M.  de  la  Motte  Piquet,  who,  with  a  French  squadron,  on 
board  of  which  was  Lafayette,  was  lying  in  the  bay  of  Quiberon, 
ready  to  sail  for  America.     This  occurred  February  13,  1778. 

Next  comes  a  half-acre  of  round-shot  and  shell  arranged 
in  pyramids,  and  waiting  till  the  now  torpid  Dahlgrens  or 
Parrotts  shake  off  their  lethargy  and  demand  their  indigest- 
ible food.  Some  of  the  globes  are  painted  black,  befitting 
their  funereal  purpose,  while  we  observed  that  others  had 
received  a  coat  of  white,  and  now  looked  like  great  sugar- 
coated  pills,  —  a  sharp  medicine  to  carry  off  the  national 
bile. 

To  the  field  of  deadly  projectiles  succeeds  a  field  of  anchors, 
the  last  resource  of  the  seaman,  the  symbol  of  Hope  in  all  the 
civilized  world. 


AN    HOUR    IN   THE   G0VERNMI<:NT    DOCKYARD. 


39 


.STANCH     AND    STK 


The  invention  of  the  anchor  is  ascribed  by  Pliny  to  the 
Tyrrhenians,  and  by  other  writers  to  Midas,  the  son  of  Gor- 
dias,  whose  anchor  Pausanias  declares  was  preserved  until  his 
time  in  a  temple  (Icdicatod  to  Jupiter.  1Mie  most  ancient  an- 
chors Avere  made 
of  stone,  and  af- 
terwards of  wood 
which  contained 
a  great  quantity 
of  lead  ;  some- 
times  baskets 
filled  with  stones, 
or  shingle,  and 
even  sacks  of 
sand  were  used. 
The  Greeks  used  muc-h  the  same  anchor  as  is  now  in  vogue, 
except  the  transverse  piece  called  the  stock.  Many  of  the  an- 
chors used  by  our  first  war- vessels  came  from  the  Old  Forge  at 
Hanover,  Mass. 

If  we  might  linger  here,  it  would  be  to  reflect  on  which  of 
these  ponderous  masses  of  metal  the  fate  of  some  good  ship 
with  her  precious  burden  of  lives  had  depended  ;  with  what 
agony  of  suspense  the  tension  of  the  stout  cable  had  been 
watched  from  hour  to  hour  as  the  greedy  waves  rushed  by  to 
throw  themselves  with  a  roar  of  baffled  rage  upon  the  flinty 
shore.  Remember,  0  craftsman,  in  your  mighty  workshop  yon- 
der, wherein  you  wield  forces  old  Vulcan  might  have  envied, 
that  life  and  death  are  in  every  stroke  of  your  huge  trip-ham- 
mer ;  and  that  a  batch  of  rotten  iron  may  cost  a  thousand 
lives. 

"  Let's  forge  a  goodly  anchor,  —  a  bower  thick  and  broad; 
For  a  heart  of  oak  is  hanging  on  every  blow,  T  ])ode; 
And  I  see  the  good  ship  riding  all  in  a  perilous  road,  — 
The  low  reef  roaring  on  her  lee;  the  roll  of  ocean  poured  ' 
From  stem  to  stern,  sea  after  sea  ;  the  mainmast  by  the  board  ; 
The  bulwarks  down  ;  the  rudder  gone  ;  the  boat  stove  at  the  chains  ; 
But  courage  still,  brave  mariners,  —  the  bower  yet  remains  ! 
And  not  an  inch  to  flinch  he  deigns,  .save  when  ye  pitch  sky  high ; 
Then  moves  his  head,  as  though  he  said,   '  Fear  nothing,  here  am  II'" 


40       HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

We  can  compare  the  granite  basin,  fashioned  to  receive  the 
great  Avar-ships,  to  nothing  else  than  a  huge  bath  wherein  some 
antique  giant  might  disport  himself.  It  seems  a  miracle  of 
intelligence,  skill,  and  perseverance.  When  Loammi  Baldwin 
was  ajjplied  to  to  undertake  the  building  of  the  Dry  Dock, 
he  hesitated,  and  asked  Mr.  Southard,  then  Secretary  of 
the  Xavy,  "  What  if  I  should  fail  ?  "  "  If  you  do,"  replied 
the  Secretary,  "  we  will  hang  you."  It  proved  a  great  suc- 
cess, worthy  to  be  classed  among  the  other  works  of  this  dis- 
tinguished engineer. 

The  foundation  rests  upon  piles  on  which  is  laid  a  massive 
oaken  floor.  We  cannot  choose  but  admire  the  great  blocks  of 
hewn  granite,  and  the  exact  and  elegant  masonry.  Owing  to 
some  defect,  when  nearly  completed,  a  rupture  took  place  in 
the  wall,  and  a  thundering  rush  of  water  came  in  and  filled 
the  excavation,  but  it  was  soon  pumped  out  and  effectually 
repaired. 

After  an  examination  of  tin;  records  of  the  tides  in  Bos- 
ton harbor  for  the  previous  sixty  years,  Mr.  Baldwin  fixed 
the  height  of  the  capping  of  the  dock  several  inches  above 
the  highest  that  had  occurred  within  that  period.  In  the 
gale  of  April,  1851,  however,  the  tide  rose  to  such  a  height 
as  to  overflow  the  dock,  falling  in  beautiful  cascades  along  its 
whole  length.  The  basin  occupied  six  years  in  building  ;  Job 
Turner,  of  Boston,  being  the  master  mason,  under  Colonel 
Baldwin.  It  was  decided  that  Old  Ironsides  sliould  be  the 
first  vessel  admitted  ;  and  upon  the  opening  of  the  structure, 
June  24,  1833,  Commodore  Hull  api)eared  once  more  on 
the  deck  of  his  old  sliip  and  superintemled  lier  entrance  with- 
in the  dock.  The  gallant  old  sailor  moved  about  the  deck 
with  his  head  bare,  and  exhibited  as  much  animation  as  he 
would  have  done  in  battle.  The  Vice-President,  Mr.  Van 
Buren,  the  Secretary  of  AVar,  Mr.  Cass,  Mr.  Southard,  and 
other  distinguished  guests  graced  the  occasion  by  their  pres- 
ence, while  the  officers  at  the  station  were  required  to  be  pres- 
ent in  full  uniform. 

The  Constitution  was  here  rebuilt  by  Mr.  Barker.     He  had 


AN  HOUR  IN  THE  GOVERNMENT  DOCKYARD.     41 

served  in  the  Revolution  both  in  the  army  and  navy.  In  the 
latter  service  he  sailed  with  Captain  Manley  in  the  Hague, 
formerly  the  Deane,  frigate,  on  a  cruise  among  the  West  India 
Islands.  His  first  ship-yard  was  within  the  limits  of  the  pres- 
ent government  yard,  and  here  he  began  to  set  uj)  vessels  as 
early  as  1795.  Later,  he  removed  his  yard  to  a  site  near  the 
state-prison.  AVhile  naval  constructor  Mr.  Barker  built  the 
Independence,  Virginia,  and  Vermont,  seventy-fours,  and  the 
sloops-of-Avar  Frolic,  Marion,  Cyane,  and  Bainbridge.  Thatcher 
Magoun,  the  well-known  shipbuilder  of  Medford,  received  his 
instruction  in  modelling  from  Josiah  Barker. 

Before  the  Constitution  was  taken  out  of  dock,  a  brand-new 
ship,  a  figure-head  of  President  Jackson  had  been  hxed  to  her 
prow  by  Commodore  Elliott,  who  then  commanded  the  yard. 
If  it  had  been  desired  to  test  the  President's  popularity  in  the 
i!^ew  England  States  no  act  could  have  been  more  happily 
devised.  A  universal  shout  of  indignation  went  up  from  press 
and  people ;  for  the  old  ship  was  little  less  than  adored  by  all 
classes,  and  to  affix  the  bust  of  any  living  personage  was 
deemed  an  indignity. 

In  that  iminense  crowd,  which  had  witnessed  the  re-baptism 
of  Old  Ironsides,  stood  a  young  Cape  Cod  seaman.  His  father, 
a  brave  old  captain  in  the  3d  Artillery,  had  doubtless  instilled 
some  strong  republican  ideas  into  the  youngster's  head,  for  he 
had  accompanied  him  to  Fort  Warren  '■'  during  the  War  of  1812, 
and  while  there  the  lad  had  seen  from  the  rampart  the  doomed 
Chesapeake  lift  her  anchor,  and  go  forth  to  meet  tlie  Shannon. 
He  had  heard  the  cannonade  off  in  the  bay,  had  noted  the  hush 
of  the  combat,  and  had  shared  in  the  anguish  with  which  all 
hearts  were  penetrated  at  the  fatal  result. 

Old  Ironsides  was  moored  with  her  head  to  the  M'-est,  be- 
tween the  seventy-fours  Columbus  and  Independence.  The 
former  vessel  had  a  large  number  of  men  on  board,  and  a  sen- 
tinel was  placed  where  he  could  keep  the  figure-head  in  view ; 
another  was  posted  on  the  wharf  near  at  hand,  and  a  third 
patrolled  the  forecastle  of  the  Constitution ;  from  an  open  port 

*  Now  Fort  Winthrop. 


42       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

of  the  Columbus  the  Hght  fell  full  upon  the  graven  features 
all  these  precautions  were  designed  to  protect. 

On  the  night  of  the  2d  of  July  occurred  a  thunder-storm 
of  unusual  violence.  The  lightning  played  around  the  masts 
of  the  shipping,  and  only  by  its  lurid  flash  could  any  object 
be  distinguished  in  the  blackness.  Young  Dewey  —  he  was 
only  twenty-eight  —  unmoored  his  boat  from  Billy  Gray's 
Wharf  in  Boston,  and,  with  his  oar  muffled  in  an  old  woollen 
comforter,  sculled  out  into  the  darkness.  He  had  reconnoitred 
the  position  of  tlie  ships  by  day,  and  was  prepared  at  all  points. 
At  length  he  found  himself  alongside  the  Independence,  the 
outside  ship,  and  worked  his  way  along  her  big  black  side, 
which  served  to  screen  him  from  observation. 

Dewey  climbed  up  the  Constitution's  side  by  the 'man-ropes 
and  ensconced  himself  in  the  bow,  protected  by  the  headboards, 
only  placed  on  the  ship  the  same  day.  He  extended  himself 
on  his  back,  and  in  this  position  sawed  ofi^"  the  head.  While 
here  he  saw  the  sentry  on  the  wharf  from  time  to  time  looking 
earnestly  towards  the  spot  where  he  was  at  work,  but  the 
lightning  and  the  storm  each  time  drove  the  guard  back  to  the 
shelter  of  his  box. 

Having  completed  his  midnight  assassination  Dewey  re- 
gained his  boat,  to  find  her  full  of  water.  She  had  swung 
under  the  scupper  of  the  ship  and  had  received  the  torrent  that 
poured  from  her  deck.  In  this  plight,  but  never  forgetting  the 
head  he  had  risked  his  life  to  obtain,  Dewey  reached  the  shore. 
We  can  never  think  of  this  scene,  with  its  attendant  circum- 
stances, without  remembering  Cooper's  episode  of  the  weird 
lady  of  the  Red  Rover. 

If  this  act  proves  Dewey  to  have  been  a  cool  hand,  the  one 
we  are  to  relate  must  cap  the  climax.  After  the  excitement 
caused  by  the  afl'air — and  it  Avas  of  no  ordinary  kind  —  had 
subsided,  Dewey  packed  up  the  grim  and  corrugated  features 
he  had  decapitated  and  posted  off  to  Washington.  At  Phila- 
delphia his  secret  leaked  out,  and  he  was  obliged  to  exhibit  his 
prize  to  John  Tyler  and  Willie  P.  Mangum,  afterwards  Presi- 
dent and  acting  Vice-President,  who  were  then  investigating 


AN  HOUR  IN  THE  GOVERNMP^NT  DOCKYARD.     43 

the  affairs  of  the  United  States  Bank.  These  grave  and  rev- 
erend seigniors  shook  their  sides  as  they  regarded  the  colossal 
head,  now  brought  so  low,  and  parted  with  Captain  Dewey 
with  warm  and  pressing  offers  of  service. 

The  Captain's  intention  to  present  the  head  to  General 
Jackson  himself  was  frustrated  by  the  dangerous  illness  of 
the  President,  to  whom  all  access  was  denied.  He  however 
obtained  an  audience  of  Mr.  Van  Buren,  the  Vice-President, 
who  at  once  overwhelmed  him  with  civilities  after  the  manner 
in  which  that  crafty  old  fox  was  wont  to  lay  siege  to  the  sus- 
ceptibilities of  all  who  approached  him.  Upon  Dewey's  an- 
nouncing himself  as  the  person  who  had  taken  off  the  Consti- 
tution's figure-head  Mr.  Van  Buren  gave  a  great  start  and  was 
thrown  off*  his  usual  balance.  Eecovering  himself,  he  demanded 
the  particulars  of  the  exploit,  which  seemed  to  afford  him  no 
small  satisfaction.  Captain  Dewey  wished  him  to  receive  the 
head.  "  Go  to  Mr.  Dickerson,"  said  the  Vice-President,  "  it 
belongs  to  his  department  ;  say  you  have  come  from  me." 
To  Mahlon  Dickerson,  Secretary  of  the  Navy,  our  hero  accord- 
ingly went. 

The  venerable  Secretary  was  busily  engaged  with  a  heap  of 
papers,  and  requested  his  visitor  to  be  brief.  This  hint  was 
not  lost  on  the  Captain. 

"  Mr.  Dickerson,  I  am  the  person  who  removed  the  figure- 
head from  the  Constitution,  and  I  have  brought  it  with  me  for 
the  purpose  of  returning  it  to  the  Government." 

The  Secretary  threw  himself  back  in  his  chair,  pushed  his 
gold-bowed  spectacles  with  a  sudden  movement  up  on  his  fore- 
head, and  regarded  with  genuine  astonishment  the  man  who, 
after  evading  the  most  diligent  search  for  his  discovery,  now 
came  forward  and  made  this  voluntary  avowal.  Between  amaze- 
ment and  choler  the  old  gentleman  could  scarce  sputter  out, — 

"  You,  sir  !  you  !  What,  sir,  did  you  have  the  audacity  to 
disfigure  a  ship  of  the  United  States  Xavy  1 " 

"  Sir,  /  took  the  respoiisibilityy 

"  Well,  sir,  I  '11  have  you  arrested  immediately  "  ;  and  the 
Secretary  took  up  the  bell  to  summon  a  messenger. 


44      HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

"  iStop,  sir,"  said  the  Captain,  "  you  cannot  inflict  any  pun- 
ishment ;  I  can  only  be  sued  for  a  trespass,  and  in  the  county 
where  the  ofience  was  committed.  Say  the  word,  and  I  will 
go  back  to  Charlestown  and  await  my  trial ;  but  if  a  Middle- 
sex jury  don't  give  irve  damages,  my  name  's  not  Dewey."  The 
Captain  had  explored  his  ground  :  there  was  no  statute  at  that 
time  against  defacing  ships  of  war,  and  he  knew  it.  Mr.  Dick- 
erson,  an  able  lawyer,  reflected  a  moment,  and  then  put  down 
liis  bell.  "  You  are  right,  sir,"  said  he  ;  "  and  now  tell  me  all 
about  the  aft  air." 

The  Captain  remained  some  time  closeted  with  the  Secretary, 
of  whose  treatment  he  had  no  reason  to  complain. 

All  these  incidents,  recently  related  by  Captain  Dewey  to 
the  writer,  stamp  him  as  a  man  of  no  common  decision  of 
character.  He  resolved,  deliberated  upon,  planned,  and  exe- 
cuted his  enterprise  without  the  assistance  of  a  single  indi- 
vidual, —  one  person  only  receiving  a  hint  from  him  at  tlie 
moment  he  set  out,  as  a  precaution  in  case  any  accident 
might  befall  him.  Though  approximating  to  the  Scriptural 
limit  of  human  life,  Captain  Dewey  shows  little  sign  of  decay, 
A  man  of  middle  stature,  his  sandy  liair  is  lightly  touched 
with  gTay,  his  figure  but  little  bent ;  his  complexion  is  floTid, 
perhaps  from  the  efl'ects  of  an  early  seafaring  life ;  his  mouth 
is  expressive  of  determined  resolution,  and  an  eye  of  bhiish 
gray  lights  u])  in  moments  of  animation  a  physiognomy  far 
from  unjileasant.  He  is  not  the  man  to  commit  an  act  of  mere 
bravado,  but  is  devoted  to  his  convictions  of  right  with  the 
zeal  of  a  Mussulman.  We  may  safely  add  that  he  was  never  a 
Jackson  Democrat. 

The  names  of  several  of  the  vessels  constructed  by  Mr. 
Barker  have  become  historical.  The  Frolic  was  captured  in 
1814  by  H.  B.  M.  frigate  Orpheus  and  an  armed  schooner, 
after  a  chase  of  sixty  miles,  during  which  the  Frolic  threw  her 
lee  guns  overboard.  She  was  rated  as  a  vessel  of  18  guns, 
but  was  built  to  carry  twenty  32-pounder  carronades  and  two 
long  18-  or  24-pounders.  At  the  time  of  her  capture  she  was 
commanded  by  Master-Commandant  Bainbridge. 


AN  HOUR  IN  THE  GOVERNMENT  DOCKYARD.      45 

The  Independence  was  launched  July  20,  1814,  during  hos- 
tihties  with  Great  Britain,  and  was  the  first  seventy-four  afloat  in 
our  navy,  —  if  the  America,  launched  in  1782,  and  given  to  the 
French,  be  excepted.  Her  first  cruise  was  to  the  Mediterranean, 
where  she  carried  the  broad  pennant  of  Commodore  Bainbridge, 
and  was  the  first  of  her  class  to  display  our  Stars  and  Stripes 
abroad.  Owing  to  a  defect  in  her  build  she  was  afterwards 
converted  into  a  serviceable  double-banked  60-gun  frigate. 
As  such  she  has  been  much  admired  by  naval  critics,  and  was 
honored  while  lying  at  Cronstadt  by  a  visit  from  the  Czar 
Nicholas, '"^  incognito. 

The  Vermont  has  never  made  a  foreign  cruise,  though  in- 
tended in  1853  for  the  flagship  of  Commodore  Perry's  expedi- 
tion to  Japan.  The  Virginia,  sleeping  like  another  Rip  Van 
Winkle,  in  her  big  cradle  for  half  a  century,  until  she  had  be- 
come as  unsuited  to  service  as  tlie  galley  of  Medina  Sidonia 
would  be,  remains  in  one  of  the  ship-houses,  a  specimen  of 
ancient  naval  architecture,  with  her  bluff  bows  and  sides  tum- 
bling inboard.  It  would,  perhaps,  require  a  nautical  eye  such 
as  we  do  not  possess  to  determine  which  was  the  stem  and 
which  the  stern  of  this  ship.  The  Cumberland  went  down  at 
Hampton  Ro^ids  in  the  unequal  conflict  with  the  Merrimac  in 
March,  1862.  The  Cyane,  named  after  the  British  ship  cap- 
tured by  the  Constitution,  was  broken  up  at  Philadelphia  in 
1836. 

The  launch  of  the  Merrimac,  in  the  summer  of  1855,  is 
a  well-remembered  scene.  Such  was  the  admiration  of  her 
beautiful  proportions  that  it  was  generally  said,  if  the  other 
five  frigates  ordered  to  be  built  were  like  her,  we  should  at 
length  have  a  steam  navy  worthy  of  the  name.  Her  model 
M^as  furnished  by  Mr.  Lenthall,  chief  of  the  Bureau  of  Con- 
struction, and  she  was  built  by  Mr.  Delano,  then  Naval  Con- 
structor at  this  station,  under  the  supervision  of  Commodore 
Gregory.  Melvin  Simmons  was  the  master-carpenter.  A  year 
after  her  keel  was  laid  she  glided  without  accident  into  the 
element  in  which  she  was  destined  to  play  so  important  a  part. 
*  Captain  Preble's  Notes  on  Sliip-buiUUiig  in  Massachusetts. 


46       HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

She  displayed  at  every  available  point  the  flag  her  batteries 
were  turned  against  in  her  first  and  only  battle.  Many 
thousand  spectators  witnessed  from  the  neighboring  wharves, 
bridges,  and  shipping  her  splendid  rush  into  the  waters.  The 
Ohio  and  Vermont,  then  lying  at  their  moorings  in  the  stream, 
were  thronged  with  people  who  welcomed  the  good  ship,  at  her 
parting  from  the  shore,  with  loud  huzzas.  As  she  rode  on  the 
surface  of  the  river,  majestic  and  beautiful,  no  conjecture,  we 
will  venture  to  say,  was  made  by  any  among  that  vast  mul- 
titude of  the  powers  of  destruction  she  was  destined  to  ex- 
hibit. At  that  time  her  size  appeared  remarkable,  and  so 
indeed  it  was  when  compared  Avith  the  smaller  craft  among 
which  she  floated.  Her  armament  was  from  the  celebrated 
foundry  of  Cyrus  Alger,  South  Boston. 

Returning  from  a  peaceful  cruise  in  the  Pacific,  she  arrived 
at  Norfolk  early  in  February,  1860,  and  was  lying  at  that 
station  in  ordinary  when  the  flag  of  rebellion  was  raised  at 
Charleston.  But  for  the  prevalence  of  treason  in  high  places, 
the  Merrimac  would  have  been  saved  to  our  navy  before  the 
destruction  of  the  dockyard  at  Norfolk,  April  21,  1861.  She 
became  a  rebel  vessel,  and,  encased  in  iron,  descended  the 
river,  appearing  among  our  fleet  in  Hampton  Roads  March 
8,  1862,  where  she  pursued  a  course  of  havoc — -her  iron 
prow  crashing  into  our  wooden  ships  —  unparalleled  in  naval 
annals.  Her  conflict  on  the  following  day  with  the  little 
Monitor,  commanded  by  the  brave  Worden,  and  of  which  the 
world  may  be  said,  in  a  manner,  to  have  been  spectators,  is 
still  fresh  in  the  memories  of  the  present  generation. 

Napoleon,  no  mean  judge,  while  candidly  admitting  tlie 
superiority  of  the  English  over  the  French  sailors,  asserted  as 
his  belief,  that  the  Americans  were  better  seamen  than  the 
English.  It  was  the  general  belief  in  the  British  Navy,  dur- 
ing the  War  of  1812,  that  our  discipline  was  more  severe  than 
their  own.  If  true,  this  would  have  gone  far  to  confute  the 
assertion  that  our  crews  were  largely  composed  of  British 
sailors.  The  truth  is,  that  we  always  had  plenty  of  the  best 
sailors  in  the  world. 


AN    HOUR   IN    THE    GOVERNMENT    DOCKYARD.  47 

General  Hyslop,  who  was  on  the  quarter-deck  of  the  Java 
during  her  contest  with  the  Constitution,  stated  it  as  his  con- 
viction that  the  American  sailors  were  far  more  elastic  and  ac- 
tive in  their  habits  than  the  British.  He  was  astonished,  also, 
at  the  superior  gunnery  of  the  crew  of  Old  Ironsides,  who 
were  able  to  discharge  three  broadsides  to  two  from  the  Java, 
thus  adding  one  third  to  the  weight  of  their  fire.  To  this  cir- 
cumstance he  attributed  the  victory  of  Bainbridge. 

It  is  well  known  that  the  royal  navy  was  long  indebted  to 
American  forests  for  its  masts,  the  Crown  reserving  for  this  pur- 
pose the  trees  of  a  certain  girth,  to  which  an  officer  affixed  the 
broad-arrow.  The  owner  of  the  soil  might,  if  he  chose,  cut 
down  and  haul  the  king's  trees  to  the  nearest  seaport,  receiv- 
ing a  certain  compensation  for  his  labor  ;  and  one  of  the 
most  notable  old-time  sights  the  Maine  woods  witnessed  was 
the  removal  of  the  giant  pines  by  a  long  train  of  oxen  to  the 
sea.     As  was  truly  said  of  England, 

"  E'en  the  tall  mast  that  bears  your  flag  on  high 
Grew  in  our  soil,  and  ripened  in  our  sky." 

The  mast-ship  had  its  regular  time  for  sailing  from  Piscata- 
qua  (Portsmouth)  or  Falmouth  (Portland),  convoyed,  in  time 
of  w^ar  with  France,  by  a  frigate.  In  process  of  time  the  in- 
creasing scarcity  of  timber  led  to  the  construction  of  ship's  masts 
in  sections.  The  first  vessel  in  our  navy  to  carry  one  of  these 
sticks  was  the  Constitution,  whose  mainmast,  in  1803,  when 
she  sailed  for  Tripoli,  was  a  made  mast  of  twenty-eight  pieces. 

Copper  sheathing  for  vessels  of  war  was  first  applied  to  the 
Alarm,  British  frigate,  in  1758,  but  conductors,  which  we  owe 
to  the  genius  of  Franklin,  were  first  used  on  American  ships, 
and  previous  to  1790. 

The  cipher  which  is  used  in  the  United  States  to  designate 
government  property  owes  its  origin,  according  to  Frost's 
Naval  History,  to  a  joke.  AVhen  the  so-called  last  war  with 
England  broke  out  there  were  two  inspectors  of  provisions  at 
Troy,  New  York,  named  Ebenezer  and  Samuel  Wilson.  The 
latter  gentleman  (universally  known   as   "  Uncle   Sam ")  gen- 


48       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

erally  superintended  in  person  a  large  number  of  workmen, 
who,  on  one  occasion,  were  employed  in  overhauling  the  pro- 
visions purchased  by  the  contractor,  Elbert  Anderson  of  IS'ew 
York.  The  casks  were  marked  "  E.  A.  - —  U.  S."  This  work 
fell  to  the  lot  of  a  facetious  fellow,  who,  on  being  asked  the 
meaning  of  the  mark,  said  he  did  not  know  unless  it  meant 
Elbert  Anderson  and  Uncle  Sam,  alluding  to  Uncle  Sam  Wil- 
son.    The  joke  took  and  became  very  current. 

The  Charlestown  yard  is  further  distinguished  as  having  the 
only  ropewalk  under  the  control  of  the  government,  in  which 
an  endless  twisting  of  the  flexible  material  —  from  the  slender 
thread  which  flies  the  youth's  kite  to  the  serpent-like  folds  of 
the  great  ship's  cable — is  forever  going  on. 

"  At  the  end  an  open  door; 
Squares  of  sunshine  on  the  floor 

Light  the  long  and  dusky  lane; 
And  the  whirring  of  a  wheel, 
Dull  and  drowsy,  makes  me  feel 
All  its  spokes  are  in  my  brain." 

Under  cover  of  houses  or  temporary  roofs  are  some  of  those 
sea- monsters  whose  creation  dates  from  the  Eebellion ;  sub- 
marine volcanoes  that  hurl  destruction  by  the  ton,  and  vomit 
fire  and  smoke  from  their  jaws.  As  they  lie  here  upon  the 
river's  brink,  with  their  iron  scales  and  their  long,  low  hulks, 
we  can  liken  them  to  nothing  else  than  so  many  huge  alligators 
basking  themselves  in  the  sunshine  to-day,  but  only  waiting 
the  signal  to  plunge  their  half  submerged  bodies  into  the  stream 
and  depart  on  their  errand  of  havoc.  Long  may  ye  lie  here 
powerless  by  the  shore,  ye  harbingers  of  ruin ;  and  long  may 
your  iron  entrails  lack  the  food  that,  breathing  life  into  those 
lungs  of  brass  and  steel,  gives  motion  to  your  unwieldy  bulk  ! 
May  ye  lie  here  tied  to  the  shore,  until  your  iron  crust  drops 
ofl'  like  the  shell  of  any  venerable  crustacean,  ere  the  tocsin 
again  shall  sound  that  lets  slip  such  "  dogs  of  war  "  ! 

The  lower  ship-house  marks  the  beach  where  the  choice 
troops  of  Old  England  left  their  boats  and  began  their  fatal 
march  to  Breed's  Hill ;  where  the  glittering  and  moving  mass, 


AN  HOUE  IN  THE  GOVERNMENT  DOCKYARD.     49 

extending  itself  like  a  painted  wall,  broke  oft'  into  columns  of 
attack.  The  light  infantry  and  grenadiers  keep  the  shore  of  the 
Mystic,  and  at  length  deploy  in  front  of  the  stern  old  ranger, 
John  Stark,  and  of  the  brave  Kuowlton,  crouched  behind  their 
flimsy,  simidated  rampart  of  sweet-scented,  new-mown  hay.  A 
flash,  a  rattling  volley,  and  the  line  is  enveloped  in  smoke, 
which,  drifting  slowly  away  before  the  breeze,  reveals  what  was 
a  wall  of  living  steel  rent  into  fragments,  little  scattered  groups, 
while  the  space  between  is  covered  with  the  dead  and  dying. 
Reader,  do  you  know  the  battle-field  and  its  horrors,  —  an  arm 
tossing  here  and  there ;  a  limb  stiffened  after  some  grotesque 
fashion  in  the  last  act  of  the  expiring  will,  the  finger  pressed 
against  the  trigger,  the  bayonet  at  the  charge,  wlnle  the  green 
turf  is  dotted  far  and  near  with  little  fires  fallen  from  the 
deadly  muzzles'? 

Many  of  the  slain  in  this  battle  were  probably  buried  within 
the  dockyard  enclosure ;  and  they  will  show  you  at  the  Xaval 
Institute  a  heap  of  bones  brought  to  light  while  digging  down 
the  hill,  —  relics  of  the  fight  which  the  earth  has  given  up  be- 
fore their  time.  We  have  little  sympathy  with  the  exhibition 
of  dead  men's  bones.  These  poor  memorials  of  the  brave  de- 
serve Christian  burial  at  our  hands.  Fallen  far  from  the  Welsh 
hills  or  Irish  lakes,  there  is  something  uncanny  and  reproach- 
ful in  their  detention  above  ground  ;  a  grave  and  a  stone  is  due 
to  the  remains  of  those  whose  fate  may  one  day  be  our  own. 

Having  thus  circumnavigated  the  hundred  acres  of  Uncle 
Sam's  exclusive  domain,  we  may  congratulate  that  much-abused 
old  gentleman  upon  the  successful  speculation  he  has  made. 
The  original  estimates  included  only  twenty-three  acres,  to  be 
obtained  from  the  following  proprietors,  namely  : 

Seven  acres  of  Harris,  estimated  worth  $  12,000 
Three         "        Stearns,         "             "  500 

Two           "        Breed             "             "  150 

Nine          "            "                 "             "  3,600        $16,250 

Two  acres  additional  were  procured  in  order 
to  alter  the  road  so  as  to  get  more  room  where 
the  ships  were  to  be  built,  and  for  which  was 
paid, 3.000. 


50       HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

Subsequent  purchases,  together  with  the  attendant  expenses, 
swelled  the  first  cost  of  the  site  to  |  40,000,  for  about  eighty 
acres  of  land  and  marsh  ;  but  the  work  of  filling,  which  has  con- 
stantly proceeded,  has  considerably  extended  the  area.  The 
government  has  expended  about  tliree  and  a  half  millions  upon 
the  yard,  the  value  of  the  land  alone  being  now  estimated  at 
nearly  six  millions.  Efforts  have  been  made  to  induce  the  re- 
moval to  some  other  locality,  in  order  to  secure  the  site  for 
commerce,  but  thus  far  without  success. 

The  Naval  Institute,  which  comprises  a  museum,  a  library, 
and  a  reading-room,  is  very  creditable  to  its  founders  and  pro- 
moters. The  walls  of  the  nniseum  are  decorated  with  imple- 
ments of  war,  or  of  the  chase,  belonging  to  every  nation  between 
the  poles,  while  the  cabinets  are  well  stocked  with  curiosities 
and  relics  to  which  every  vessel  arriving  at  the  station  brings 
accessions.  It  will  readily  be  seen,  with  such  unlimited  op- 
portunities for  bringing,  free  of  cost,  articles  of  value  from  the 
most  remote  climes,  what  collections  might  be  made  at  the 
public  dockyards  were  the  government  to  give  a  little  official 
stimulus  to  the  object. 

The  sword  which  Preble  wore  before  Tripoli,  and  that  of 
Captain  Whynyates  of  H,  M.  ship  Frolic,  are  here  preserved, 
together  with  relics  of  the  Boxer,  the  figure-head  of  the  General 
Armstrong,  privateer,  and  some  memorials  of  the  ill-fated  Cum- 
berland. The  library  is  valuable  and  well  selected,  but  the 
books  appear  but  little  used.  A  liuge  aquatic  fowl,  which 
stands  sentinel  near  the  entrance  to  these  rooms,  seems  to  have 
been  placed  there  for  the  convenience  of  cleaning  pens,  his 
downy  breast  being  seamed  with  inky  stains. 

There  are  few  trophies  within  the  yard,  the  billet-head  which 
the  Constitution  carried  in  1812,  and  one  of  the  umbrellas  with 
which  Hull  walked  his  ship  away  from  Broke's  squadron,  being 
the  most  noticeable.  The  latter  is  now  utilized  as  an  awning, 
and  is  placed  over  a  music-stand,  a  perpetual  reminder  of, 

"  A  Yankee  ship  and  a  Yankee  crew  !  " 

The  great  wall  of  Tartary  is  not  more  formidable  than  is  the 


AN  HOUR  IN  THE  GOVERNMENT  DOCKYARD.      51 

granite  fence  which  shoulders  out  the  neighborhood,  and  speaks 
of  the  possibihties  of  invasion  of  these  precincts  by  the  rabble. 
The  appearance  without  is  that  of  a  prison,  or  a  fortress ; 
within,  a  vista  of  greensward  stocked  with  cannon,  with  rows 
of  poplars  shading  cold  granite  walls,  confounds  the  vision. 
Joyous  children  are  warned  away  from  tlie  enclosures  by  some 
battered  old  guardian  who  will  never  more  be  fit  for  sea. 
"Keep  off!"  "Touch  nothing!"  "Your  pass!"  —  So,  we 
are  free  again. 


62        HISTOEIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 


CHAPTER     III. 


I 


BUNKER  HILL  AND  THE  MONUMENT. 

"  I'd  better  gone  an'  sair'd  the  King, 
At  Bunker's  HilV 
Burns. 

N  June,  1875,  was  celebrated  the  centennial  of  the 
Battle  of  Bunker  Hill.  Never  before  did  the  tall 
gray  shaft  look  down  upon  such  a  pageant.  Fifty  years 
liad  elapsed  since  the  corner-stone  of  the  monument  was 
laid,  in  the  presence  of   General  Lafayette,   Daniel  Webster, 

and  of  many  survivors 
of  the  battle.  It  is 
not  idle  sentimentality 
that  has  hallowed  the 
spot.  A  hundred  thou- 
sand brave  men  have 
fought  the  better  be- 
cause its  traditions  yet 
linger  among  us,  and 
are  still  recounted 
around  our  firesides. 

Why  is  it  that  we 
can  o'erleap  the  tre- 
mendous conflicts  that 
have  taken  place  since 
Bunker  Hill,  and  still 
feel  an  undiminished 
interest  in  that  day*? 
It  is  not  the  battle,  for 
it  was  fought  without 
order  on  the  American 
it  is  not  the  carnage, 


side, 


BUNKER  HIH,  MONUMENT. 

and  without  skill  on  the  British 


BUNKER  HILL  AND  THE  MONUMENT.         53 

for  many  fields  liavo  been  more  bloody  in  our  own  times.  It  is 
perhaps  because  the  men  of  New  England  here  cast  their  hrst 
defiance  in  the  teeth  of  the  trained  bands  of  Old  England ;  it 
is  because  it  was  an  act  of  aggression,  and  showed  that  our  sii'es 
M^ere  determined  to  hght  and  ready  to  die  in  their  good  cause. 
The  battle  was  as  astounding  to  J3ritish  arrogance  as  it  was 
destructive  to  British  prestige ;  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  the 
memory  of  that  day  followed  Sir  William  Howe  with  blightinf^ 
effect  to  the  end  of  his  military  career. 

The  story  of  the  battle  is  so  familiar  that  every  schoolboy 
will  tell  you  where  the  Provincials  intrenched,  and  where  the 
enemy  landed  ;  how  many  times  the  foe  was  borne  back  with 
slaughter,  and  how  many  fell.  Here,  across  the  river,  is  Copp's 
Hill,  where  Clinton  and  Burgoyne  watched  the  varying  for- 
tunes of  the  battle,  and  from  which  a  battery  played  upon  these 
heights.  The  dead  sleep  as  quietly  there  now  as  they  did  on 
the  day  when  the  foundations  of  the  hill  were  shaken  by  the 
discharges  of  the  guns.  There,  you  see  the  tower  and  steeple  of 
Christ  Church,  from  which  Gage,  it  is  said,  witnessed  the  fray, 
and  whose  bells  hrst  rang  a  Merry  Christmas  peal  in  1745,  the 
year  of  Louisburg.  Below  us  the  river  ebbs  and  flows  as  it 
did  in  centuries  gone  by.  Behind  us  is  Bunker  Hill  proper, 
its  name  so  tenaciously  allied  with  the  battle  as  to  compel 
the  adoption  of  an  historical  error.  The  Neck,  over  which  the 
Americans  advanced  and  retreated,  has  disappeared  within  the 
body;  the  Mill  Pond  causeway  is  still,  in  a  measure,  intact, 
but  the  pond  itself  is  fast  becoming  dry  land,  and  the  marshes 
are  hiding  beneath  a  desert  of  gravel. 

The  British  force  engaged  at  Bunker  Hill  was  made  up  from 
parts  of  fourteen  regiments,  then  in  Boston,  besides  the  Royal 
Artillery  and  two  battalions  of  Marines.  Some  of  these  corj^s 
were  the  very  elite  of  the  army.  These  were  the  4th,  or  Hodg- 
son's ;  5th,  Percy's;  10th,  Sand  ford's  ;  18th,  or  Royal  Irish; 
22d,  Gage's;  23d,  Howe's  (Welsh  Fusileers) ;  35th,  F.  H. 
CampbeU's ;  38th,  Pigot's  ;  43d,  Gary's  ;  47th,  Carleton's  ;  52d, 
Clavering's ;  63d,  Grant's  ;  65th,  TJrmston's.  The  marching 
regiments  for  the  American  service  consisted  of  twelve  com- 


54       HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 


panies,  and  each  company  mustered  fifty-six  effective  rank  and 
file.  Two  companies  of  each  regiment  were  usually  left  at 
home  on  recruiting  service, 

"  And  now  they  're  forming  at  the  Point,  and  now  the  lines  advance; 
We  see  beneath  the  sultry  sun  their  polished  bayonets  glance ; 
We  hear  anear  the  throbbing  drum,  the  bugle  challenge  ring; 
Quick  bursts  and  loud  the  flashing  cloud,  and  rolls  from  wing  to  wing ; 
But  on  the  height  our  bulwark  stands  tremendous  in  its  gloom,  — 
As  sullen  as  a  tropic  sky,  and  silent  as  a  tomb." 

As  these  troops  disembarked  and  paraded  at  the  Point  be- 
low, the  spectacle  must  have  extorted  the  admiration  even  of 
the  rude  •  bands  who,  with  compressed  lips  and  bated  breath, 
awaited  their  coming.  Let  us  review  the  king's  regulars  as 
they  stand  in  battle  array. 

The  scarlet  uniforms,  burnished  arms,  and  perfect  discipline 

are    common    to    all    the 
battalions. 


King's  Own, 


The  4th,  or 
stands  on 
the  right  in  the  place  of 
honor.  They  have  the 
king's  cipher  on  a  red 
ground,  within  the  garter, 
with  the  crown  above,  in 
the  centre  of  their  colors. 
In  the  corners  of  the  sec- 
ond color,  which  every 
regiment  carried,  is  the 
Lion  of  England,  their 
ancient  badge.  The  grren- 
adiers  have  the  king's 
crest  and  cipher  on  the  front  of  their  caps.  Percy's  Northum- 
berland Fusileers  have  St.  George  and  the  Dragon  on  their 
colors,  and  on  the  grenadiers'  caps  and  arms.  The  Eoyal  Irish 
display  a  harp  in  a  blue  field  in  the  centre  of  their  colors,  Avith 
a  crown  above  it ;  and  in  the  three  corners  of  the  second  color 
is  blazoned  the  Lion  of  Nassau,  the  arms  of  King  William  III. 
The  caps  of  the  grenadiers  show  the  king's  crest  and  the  harji 


BRITISH   FLAG   CAPTURED   AT   YORKTOWN. 


BUNKER   HILL   AND    THE    MONUMENT.  55 

and  crown.  An  officer  of  this  regiment  was  the  first  Briton 
to  mount  tlie  redoubt. 

The  Royal  Welsh  have  the  Prince  of  Wales  arms,  —  tliree 
feathers  issuing  out  of  a  coronet.  In  the  corners  of  the  second 
color  are  the  badges  of  Edward  the  Black  Prince,  a  rising  sun, 
red  dragon,  and  plumed  cap,  with  the  motto  Ich  dien.  The 
marines  are  clothed  and  armed  in  the  same  manner  as  his 
Majesty's  other  corps  of  infantry,  their  uniform  scarlet,  turned 
up  with  white,  white  waistcoats  and  breeches.  They  also  wear 
caps  like  those  of  the  fusileer  regiments,  which  caused  them  to 
be  called  by  the  French  Les  Petits  Grenadiers. 

Our  readers  are  probably  aware  that  tlie  Fusileers  were  so 
called,  upon  their  first  organization,  from  the  circumstance  that 
they  carried  their  fusees  with  slings.  There  are  three  regiments 
bearing  this  designation  in  the  British  Army ;  namely,  23d  or 
Eoyal  Welsh,  raised  in  1688  ;  21st  or  Xorth  British,  raised  in 
1679  ;  and  7th  or  Royal  English,  raised  in  1685.  The  grena- 
diers were  a  company  armed  with  a  pouch  of  hand  grenades,  and 
originated  in  France  in  1667,  but  were  not  adopted  in  England 
until  twenty  years  later, 

"  Come,  let  us  fill  a  bumper,  and  drink  a  health  to  those 
Who  wear  the  caps  and  pouches  and  eke  the  looped  clothes." 

In  1774,  when  the  Royal  Welsh  left  New  York,  Rivington 
the  bookseller,  to  whose  shop  the  officers  resorted,  wrote  to  a 
brother  bookseller  in  Boston  as  follows  :  — 

"  My  friends,  the  gallant  Royals  of  Wales,  are  as  respectable  a 
corps  of  gentlemen  as  are  to  be  found  in  the  uniform  of  any  croAvned 
head  upon  earth.  You  may  depend  upon  their  honor  and  integrity,"^ 
They  have  not  left  the  least  unfavorable  impression  behind  them, 
and  their  departure  is  more  regretted  than  that  of  any  officers  who 
ever  garrisoned  our  city.  Pray  present  my  respects  to  Colonel  Bar- 
nard, Major  Blunt,"  etc,  etc. 

This  celebrated  corps,  which  had  bled  freely  on  the  Old 
World  battle-fields,  embarked,  on  the  27th  of  July,  on  board 
the  transports  for  Boston.  The  officers  bore  the  reputation  of 
"  gentlemen  of  the  most  approved  integrity  and  of  the  nicest 
punctuality."     Rivington,  with  the  cunning  for  which  he  was 


56       HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

distinguished,  made  use  of  the  gallant  and  unsuspecting  Cap- 
tain Horsfall  to  smuggle  four  chests  of  tea  into  Boston  as  a  part 
of  the  officers'  private  luggage.  The  package  was  consigned, 
under  strict  injunctions  of  secrecy,  to  Henry  Knox  ;  but  liiving- 
ton,  more  than  suspecting  that  his  consignee  would  have  nothing 
to  do  with  the  obnoxious  herb,  directed  him  to  turn  it  over 
to  some  one  else,  in  case  he  should  decline  the  commission. 
Patriotism  and  tea  were  then  incompatible,  and  Knox  declined 
the  bait  to  tempt  his  cupidity. 

The  Welsh  Fusileers  had  an  ancient  and  privileged  custom 
of  passing  in  review  preceded  by  a  goat  with  gilded  horns,  and 
adorned  with  garlands  of  flowers.  Every  1st  of  March,  the 
anniversary  of  their  tutelar  saint,  David,  the  officers  gave  a 
splendid  entertainment  to  all  their  Welsh  brethren ;  and,  after 
the  removal  of  the  cloth,  a  bumper  was  tilled  round  to  his  Eoyal 
Highness,  the  Prince  of  Wales,  whose  health  Avas  always  the 
first  drank  on  that  day.  The  goat,  richly  caparisoned  for  the 
occasion,  was  then  brought  in,  and,  a  handsome  drummer-boy 
being  mounted  on  his  back,  the  animal  was  led  thrice  around  the 
table  by  the  drum-major.  It  happened  in  1775,  at  Boston,  that 
the  animal  gave  such  a  spring  from  the  floor  that  he  dropped 
his  rider  upon  the  table  ;  then,  leaping  over  the  heads  of  some 
officers,  he  ran  to  the  barracks,  with  all  his  trappings,  to  the  no 
small  joy  of  the  garrison  and  populace. 

This  regiment,  which  was  opposed  to  Stark's  men  at  the  rail- 
fence,  on  the  left  of  the  redoubt,  lost  upwards  of  sixty  killed 
and  wounded,  but  was  by  no  means  so  cut  up  as  has  often 
been  stated.  The  greatest  havoc  was  made  in  the  ranks  of 
Percy's  Northumbrians,  who  had  eight  commissioned  officers,  in- 
cluding two  ensigns,  and  one  hundred  and  forty-four  non-com- 
missioned officers  and  soldiers  Jiors  du  comhat.  This  carnage 
reminds  us  of  that  sustained  by  the  Highlanders  in  the  battle  of 
New  Orleans.  The  British  color-bearers  at  Bunker  Hill  were 
specially  marked,  the  5th,  38th,  and  5 2d  having  both  their 
ensigns  shot  down. 

Lord  George  Harris,  captain  of  the  grenadier  company  of  the 
5th,  says  of  this  terrible  day  :  — 


BUNKER  HILL  AND  THE  MONUMENT.         57 

"We  had  made  a  breach  in  their  fortifications,  which  I  had  twice 
mounted,  encouraging  the  men  to  follow  me,  and  was  ascending  a 
third  time,  when  a  ball  grazed  the  top  of  my  head,  and  I  fell,  de- 
prived of  sense  and  motion.  My  lieutenant.  Lord  Rawdon,  caught 
me  in  his  arms,  and,  believing  me  dead,  endeavored  to  remove  me 
from  the  spot,  to  save  my  body  from  being  trampled  on.  The  mo- 
tion, while  it  hurt  me,  restored  my  senses,  and  I  articulated,  '  For 
God's  sake,  let  me  die  in  peace.' " 

Lord  Rawdon  ordered  four  soldiers  to  carry  Captain  Harris 
to  a  place  of  safety.  Of  these  three  were  wounded,  one 
mortally,  while  endeavoring  to  comply  with  the  order.  Such 
was  the  terrible  fusilade  from  the  redoubt.  Captain  Harris's 
life  was  saved  by  trepanning,  and  he  recovered  to  take  part 
in  the  battle  of  Long  Island  and  the  subsequent  operations  in 
New  York  and  the  Jerseys.  He  received  another  rebel  bullet 
through  the  leg  in  1777  ;  was  in  the  expedition  to  St.  Lucie  in 
1778  as  major  of  the  5th  ;  served  in  India  with  distinction,  and 
was  made  lieutenant-general  in  1801.  Lexington  was  his  first 
battle ;  his  lieutenant,  Francis  Rawdon,  and  himself  are  among 
the  few  British  officers  who  fought  at  Bunker  Hill  whose  repu- 
tations survived  the  American  war. 

Captain  Addison,  a  relative  of  the  author  of  the  Spectator, 
only  arrived  in  Boston  the  day  previous  to  the  battle,  and  had 
then  accepted  an  invitation  to  dine  on  the  next  day  with  Gen- 
eral Burgoyne ;  but  a  far  different  experience  awaited  him,  for 
he  was  numbered  among  the  slain. 

The  agency  of  the  young  Bostonian,  John  Coffin  (afterwards 
a  general  in  the  British  army),  in  this  battle  is  said  to  have  been 
purely  accidental ;  for,  going  down  to  Long  Wharf  to  see  the 
5th  and  38tli  embark,  he  became  excited  with  the  ardor  dis- 
played by  his  acquaintances  among  the  officers,  of  whom  Cap- 
tain Harris  was  one,  jumped  into  a  boat  and  went  over  to  the 
hill.  This  was  the  relation  of  Dr.  Waterhouse.  Captain  Harris 
says  he  had  fallen  over  head  and  ears  in  love  with  a  Miss 
Coffin,  —  who  was  a  relative  of  John  and  Sir  Isaac,  —  or,  as  he 
jocosely  phrased  it,  had  found  a  coffin  for  his  heart.  The  lady 
had  a  "remarkably  soft   hand  and  red   pouting  liii3."      Tliis 

4* 


58       HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

celebrated  family  of  Coffins  also  furnished  another  able  officer, 
Sir  Thomas  Aston  Coffin,  to  the  British  cause. 

General  Coffin  is  accredited  with  saying  to  his  American 
friends  after  the  war,  in  allusion  to  Bunker  Hill,  "  You  could 
not  have  succeeded  without  it ;  for  something  was  indispensable, 
in  the  then  state  of  parties,  to  lix  men  someivhere,  and  to  show 
the  planters  at  the  South  that  Northern  people  were  really 
in  earnest,  and  could  and  would  hglit.  That,  that  did  the  busi- 
ness for  you."  * 

Thomas  Graves,  afterwards  an  admiral,  commanded  an  armed 
sloop  which  assisted  in  covering  the  landing  of  the  British 
troops  at  Bunker  Hill,  as  did  Bouillon  and  CoUingwood  (Nel- 
son's famous  lieutenant),  who  were  in  the  boats.  Thomas  was 
the  nephew  of  Admiral  Samuel  (Graves,  then  commanding  the 
fleet  in  the  waters  of  Boston  harbor. 

Lord  Rawdon,  wlio  is  represented  in  Trumbull's  picture  in 
the  act  of  waving  a  Hag  from  the  top  of  the  intrenclmient, 
developed,  while  afterwards  commanding  in  the  South,  a  san- 
guinary disposition.  In  view  of  the  numerous  desertions  taking 
place  in  his  command,  he  is  reported  to  have  offered,  on  one 
occasion,  ten  guineas  for  the  head  of  any  deserter  of  the  Irish 
Volunteers,  but  only  five  for  the  man  if  brought  in  alive. 

An  American  gentleman  gives  the  following  account  of  an 
interview  with  the  Earl  of  Moira  in  1803,  while  sojourning  on 
the  Isle  of  Wight  :  — 

"  I  waited  on  his  Lordship,  and  was  introduced  ;  my  reception 
was  all  that  could  be  desired.  The  Earl  then  informed  me,  that, 
learning  from  our  host  that  I  was  from  the  United  States,  he  had 
sought  my  acquaintance  in  the  hope  that  I  would  give  him  some  in- 
Ibrmatiou  of  some  of  his  old  acquaintances  of  our  Revolutionary 
War,  I  was  pleased  to  have  it  in  my  power  to  gTatify  his  Lordship 
far  beyond  his  expectations  ;  and,  after  an  excellent  supper  of  beef- 
steak and  oysters,  with  a  bottle  of  old  port,  we  found  the  night  had 
crept  into  the  morning  before  we  parted.  The  Earl  was  a  gentle- 
man of  most  noble  appearance." 

*  Sabine. 


BUNKER  HILL  AND  THE  MONUMENT.        59 

Colonel,  afterwards  General  Small,  who  appears  in  Trumbull's 
picture  as  arresting  the  thrust  of  a  bayonet  aimed  at  Warren's 
prostrate  form,  was  greatly  respected  on  both  sides,  as  the  fol- 
lowing anecdote  will  illustrate.  "Towards  the  conclusion  of 
the  war.  Colonel  Small  expressing  a  wish  to  meet  with  General 
St.  Clair  of  the  American  army,  the  friend  and  companion  of 
his  early  years,  a  flag  of  truce  was  immediately  sent  by  General 
Greene,  with  an  invitation  to  come  within  our  lines,  and  remain 
at  his  option  therein,  free  from  every  restriction.  The  invitation 
was  accepted  in  the  same  spirit  in  which  it  was  tendered."  It 
is  perhaps  needless  to  say  that  the  position  in  which  Trumbull 
has  placed  Colonel  Small  is  more  for  artistic  eff'ect  than  for 
historic  accuracy. 

General  Eurgoyne,  a  spectator  only  of  this  battle,  lived  at 
one  time  in  Samuel  Quincy's  house,  in  South  Street,  Boston. 
It  was  a  handsome  wooden  dweUing  of  three  stories,  with  a 
yard  and  garden,  and  was  for  many  years  the  abode  of  Judge 
John  Davis.  The  estate  was  the  third  from  the  corner  of 
Summer  Street,  according  to  former  lines  of  division,  and  on  the 
east  side  of  South  Street.  This  was  the  house  of  which  Mrs. 
Adams  remarks,  "  A  lady  who  lived  opposite  says  she  saw  raw 
meat  cut  and  hacked  upon  her  mahogany  table,  and  her  superb 
damask  curtains  exposed  to  the  rain," 

General  Pigot,  who  fought  a  duel  with  Major  Bruce,  mth- 
out  serious  result  to  either  combatant,  resided  in  the  Hancock 
House,  on  Beacon  Hill,  during  the  winter  of  1775.  To  his 
credit  be  it  said,  he  left  the  old  family  mansion  of  the  pro- 
scribed patriot  in  a  cleanly  state,  and  the  wines  and  stores 
remained  as  he  found  them.  Affairs  of  honor  were  not  un- 
common in  Boston  while  the  king's  troops  were  stationed  there. 
In  September,  1775,  a  meeting  took  place  between  a  captain 
and  lieutenant  of  marines,  in  which  the  former  was  killed  and 
the  latter  badly  wounded. 

Duelling  was  one  of  the  pernicious  customs  which  the  Brit- 
ish officers  left  behind  them.  The  Continental  officers  some- 
times settled  their  disputes  in  this  wise,  and,  indeed,  carried 
the  fashion  into  private  life  ;  as  witness  the  affair  of  Burr  and 


60       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

Hamilton.  But  that  the  practice  obtained  a  foothold  among 
the  gentry  in  staid  Old  Boston  would  seem  incredible,  if  we 
had  not  the  evidence. 

Trumbull's  great  painting  of  the  "  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill," 
except  for  the  portraits  it  contains,  some  of  which  were  painted 
from  life,  must  ever  be  an  unsatisfactory  work  to  Americans. 
The  artist  has  depicted  the  moment  of  defeat  for  the  provin- 
cials, with  the  head  of  the  British  column  pouring  into  the 
redoubt.  Warren  is  extended  on  the  earth  in  the  foreground. 
Prescott  is  located  in  the  background,  and  in  a  garb  that 
defies  recognition.  A  figure  purporting  to  be  that  of  Lord 
Rawdon  —  it  might  as  well  be  called  that  of  any  other  officer, 
—  presents  its  back  to  the  spectator.  But  for  the  undoubted 
likenesses  of  Putnam,  Clinton,  Small,  and  others,  the  picture 
would  be  chiefly  valued  as  commemorating  a  British  victory. 

Would  that  the  artist,  whose  skill  as  a  historical  painter  we 
do  not  mean  to  depreciate,  had  seized  the  instant  when  Warren, 
entering  the  redoubt,  his  face  aglow  with  the  enthusiasm  of 
the  occasion,  is  met  by  Prescott  with  the  offer  of  the  com- 
mand ;  or  that  other  moment,  Avhen  that  brave  old  soldier 
(ialmly  paces  the  rampart,  encouraging  his  weary  and  drooping 
men  by  his  own  invincible  contempt  for  danger. 

Trumbull's  picture  was  painted  in  West's  studio,  and  when 
it  was  nearly  completed  the  latter  gave  a  dinner  to  some  friends. 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  among  others  being  invited.  When  Sir 
Joshua  entered  the  room,  he  immediately  ran  up  to  the  *'  Bun- 
ker Hill,''  and  exclaimed,  "Why,  West,  what  have  you  got 
here"?  this  is  better  colored  than  your  works  are  generally." 
"  Sir  Joshua,  you  mistake,  that  is  not  mine,  it  is  the  work  of 
this  young  gentleman,  Mr.  Trumbull."  Trumbull  relates  that 
he  was  not  sorry  to  turn  the  tables  upon  Sir  Joshua,  who,  only 
a  short  time  before,  had  snubbed  him  unmercifully. 

The  question  of  command  on  the  American  side,  at  Bunker 
Hill,  has  been  in  former  times  one  of  bitter  controversy.  It 
has  even  mingled  to  some  extent  with  party  politics.  The 
friends  of  Warren,  Putnam,  Prescott,  Pomeroy,  and  Stark, 
each  contended  manfully  to  lodge  the  glory  with  their  par- 


BUNKER   HILL  AND   THE   MONUMENT.  61 

ticular  hero.  The  opinion  has  too  long  prevailed  that  nobody 
commanded  in  chief,  and  that  the  battle,  taken  as  a  whole, 
fought  itself,  —  or,  in  other  words,  was  maintained  by  the 
individual  leaders  acting  without  a  responsible  head,  or  any 
particular  concert.  Any  want  of  unity  is  to  be  ascribed  to  the 
chaotic  state  of  the  Provincial  army,  and  in  no  small  degree, 
also,  to  the  jealousy  between  the  officers  and  soldiers  of  the 
different  Colonies.  The  reflection  comes  naturally,  that  if  there 
was  no  general  officer  present  authorized  to  command,  there 
ought  to  have  been  one,  and  that  if  Putnam  did  not  hold  that 
authority,  the  conduct  of  General  Ward  cannot  be  understood. 
Prescott  could  not  command  the  whole  field  when  shut  up 
within  the  redoubt.  Warren  and  Pomeroy  fought  as  volun- 
teers. Putnam  endeavored  to  the  last  to  carry  out  the  original 
plan,  which  was  to  fortify  Bunker  Hill.  Had  he  succeeded 
in  forming  a  second  line  there,  the  sober  judgment  is  that  the 
enemy  would  have  deferred  an  attack  or  lost  the  battle. 

Prescott  receives  the  order  and  the  command  of  the  party  to 
intrench  on  the  hill.  When  the  intention  of  the  enemy  is 
developed,  Stark  is  ordered  on  and  takes  his  position  at  the 
rail-fence,  on  the  left  of  the  redoubt.  Putnam  is  in  all  parts 
of  the  field,  and  assumes  and  exercises  command  at  all  points, 
as  if  by  virtue  of  his  rank.  Prescott  commands  within  the 
redoubt  he  erected  ;  Stark  at  the  rampart  of  new-mown  hay  • 
while  Putnam,  taking  his  post  on  Bunker  Hill,  where  he 
could  observe  everything,  directs  the  reinforcements  that  ar- 
rive where  to  place  themselves.  As  for  Warren  and  Pomeroy, 
the  two  other  general  officers  present  during  the  battle,  they 
choose  their  stations  within  Prescott's  redoubt,  and  tight  like 
heroes  in  the  ranks.  Neither  were  willing  to  deprive  the  vet- 
eran of  the  honor  of  defending  his  fort. 

At  this  distance  of  time  Putnam's  judgment  appears  to 
have  been  sound  and  well  directed.  The  evidence  goes  to 
show  that  the  lines  were  well  manned.  The  redoubt  could  not 
fight  more  than  five  hundred  men  to  advantage,  supposing  all 
the  sides  attacked  at  once,  —  that  is,  admitting  the  dimensions 
of  the  work  have   been  correctly  given.     Putnam  liolds  a  re- 


62        HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF  MIDDLESEX. 

serve,  and  attempts  to  intrench  himself  on  Bunker  Hilh  He 
sends  to  Cambridge  for  reinforcements,  rallies  the  fugitives, 
and  at  last  plants  himself  on  Prospect  Hill  like  a  lion  at  bay. 
It  cannot  be  gainsaid  that  he  alone  sustained  the  duty  of  com- 
manding the  field,  in  its  larger  meaning,  and  was,  therefore,  in 
chief  command.  He  was  in  the  contest,  at  the  rail-fence,  and 
was  himself  there,  that  is  to  say,  all  fire  and  intrepidity.  The 
poet  thus  depicts  him  at  the  retreat :  — 

"  There  strides  bold  Putnam,  and  from  all  the  plains 
Calls  the  third  host,  the  tardy  rear  sustains, 
And,  'mid  the  whizzing  deaths  that  fill  the  air, 
Waves  back  his  sword,  and  dares  the  following  war.*' 

The  statement  that  Putnam  did  not  give  Prescott  an  order 
is  irreconcilable  with  the  fact  that  he  rode  to  the  redoubt  and 
directed  the  intrenching-tools  there  to  be  taken  to  Bunker 
Hill.  Prescott  remonstrated,  but  obeyed  the  order,  as  Gen- 
eral Heath  tells  us. 

Gordon  and  Eliot,  both  contemporary  historians,  give  Pres- 
cott the  command  within  the  redoubt ;  the  former  attributes  to 
Putnam  the  credit  of  aiding  and  encouraging  on  the  field  at 
large.  General  Lee,  who  had  every  means  of  knowing  the 
truth,  observes  in  his  defence  :  — 

"  To  begin  with  the  affair  of  Bunker  Hill,  I  may  venture  to  pro- 
nounce that  there  never  was  a  more  dangerous,  a  more  execrable 
situation,  than  those  brave  and  unfortunate  men  (if  those  who  die  in 
the  glorious  cause  of  liberty  can  be  termed  unfortunate)  were  placed 
in.  They  had  to  encounter  with  a  body  of  troops,  both  in  point 
of  spirit  and  discipline  not  to  be  surpassed  in  the  whole  world, 
headed  l)y  an  officer  of  experience,  intrepidity,  coolness,  and  deci- 
sion. The  Americans  were  composed,  in  part,  of  raw  lads  and  old 
men,  half  armed,  with  no  practice  or  discipline,  commanded  without 
order,  and  God  knows  by  whom." 

The  British  army  gained  no  little  of  its  reputation  from  the 
admixture  of  the  races  of  which  it  was  composed.  The  emu- 
lation between  Scotch,  Irish,  Welsh,  and  Saxon  has  been  the 
means  of  conquering  many  a  field ;  for,  Avhen  placed  side  by 
side  in  action,  neither  nationality  would  give  way  before  the 


BUNKER   HILL   AND   THE   MONUMENT.  63 

other.  Of  these  elements  the  Irish  and  Scotch  are,  of  course, 
the  more  distinctive.  It  is  said  to  be  a  fact,  that  in  one  of  the 
Duke  of  Marlborough's  battles,  the  Irish  brigade,  on  advancing 
to  the  charge,  threw  away  their  knapsacks  and  everything  that 
would  encumber  them,  all  of  which  were  carefully  picked  up 
by  a  Scotch  regiment  that  followed  to  support  them.  The  old 
Lord  Tyrawley  used  to  say,  that,  to  constitute  the  heau  ideal  of 
an  army,  a  general  should  take  ten  thousand  fasting  Scotch- 
men, ten  thousand  Englishmen  after  a  hearty  dinner,  and  tlie 
same  number  of  Irishmen  who  have  just  swallowed  their  second 
bottle.  Sir  William  Howe  so  well  understood  these  traits,  that 
he  gave  his  soldiers  their  dinner  and  plentifully  supplied  them 
with  grog  before  advancing  to  attack  the  Americans. 

The  first  British  regiments  (14th  and  29th)  despatched  to  Bos- 
ton in  1768  had  negro  drummers  who  were  used  to  whip  such 
of  the  soldiers  as  Avere  ordered  for  punishment.  The  bands  on 
board  derisively  played  "  Yankee  Doodle  "  as  the  fleet  came  to 
its  anchorage  before  the  town.  A  little  display  of  force  and 
a  great  deal  of  contempt  were  deemed  sufficient  by  the  minis- 
try and  their  instruments  to  overawe  the  disaffected  colonists. 

Gage  went  home  to  England  shorn  of  his  military  character, 
to  explain  Lexington  and  Bunker  Hill  to  the  king.  A  few 
days  before  he  sailed  he  offered  a  reward  of  ten  guineas  for 
the  thief  or  thieves  who  in  September  stole  from  the  Council 
Chamber,  in  Boston,  the  Public  Seal  of  the  Province,  his 
private  seal,  and  the  seal  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  Probate. 
Upon  this  announcement  the  wags  suggested  whether,  as  his 
Excellency  carried  his  secretary,  T.  Flucker,  with  him,  "  't  is 
not  as  likely  that  he  might  have  carried  them  off  as  any  one 
else." 

On  the  whole,  we  feel  inclined  to  call  the  Battle  of  Bunker 
Hill,  like  that  of  Inkerman,  the  soldiers'  battle.  There  were 
some  who  cowardly  hung  back  from  coming  to  the  assistance 
of  their  brethren,  but  the  Americans  as  a  body  displayed  great 
heroism.  The  day  was  one  of  the  sultriest,  and  the  loose 
earth,  trampled  by  many  feet,  rose  in  clouds  of  suffocating  dust 
within  the  redoubt.     The  men  there  had  marched  and  worked 


64       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

all  night  without  relief,  and  could  readily  see  the  enemy's  ships 
and  floating  batteries  taking  positions  to  prevent  reinforcement 
or  retreat.  The  thunder  of  the  cannon  to  which  they  could 
not  reply  served  to  augment  the  terror  of  such  as  were  inex- 
perienced in  war,  but  still  they  faltered  not. 

Most  of  the  provincials  fought  in  their  shirt-sleeves.  They 
found  their  outer  garments  insupportable,  and  threw  them  off 
as  they  would  have  done  in  a  hay-field  at  home.  More  than  a 
year  after  the  action  the  General  Court  was  still  allowing 
claims  for  guns,  coats,  and  other  property  lost  on  the  field. 
The  men  were  stripped  for  fighting,  while  the  British  at  first 
came  up  to  the  attack  in  heavy  marching  order,  and  arrived  in 
front  of  the  Americans,  breathless  and  overheated.  But  then 
those  "  peasants  "  in  their  shirt-sleeves,  our  ancestors, 

"Fought  like  brave  men,  long  and  well." 

The  British  soldiers,  too,  deserve  the  same  meed  of  praise. 
They  never  displayed  greater  valor,  or  a  more  stubborn  deter- 
mination to  conquer  or  die.  Without  vanity  we  might  apply 
to  them  the  remark  of  Frederick  the  Great  to  Prince  Ferdi- 
nand :  "  You  are  going  to  fight  the  French  cousin ;  it  will  be 
easy  for  you,  perhaps,  to  beat  the  generals,  but  never  the 
soldiers."  General  Howe  said  of  the  action  on  the  historic 
hill,  "  You  may  talk  of  your  Mindens  and  your  Fontenoys, 
but  for  my  part,  I  never  saw  such  carnage  in  so  short  a 
time." 

An  instance  of  sang-froid  which  recalls  the  celebrated  reply 
of  Junot  occurred  in  the  redoubt.  Enoch  Jewett  of  Dunsta- 
ble, a  young  soldier  of  Captain  Ebenezer  Bancroft's  company, 
Bridges's  regiment,  was  standing  at  one  of  the  angles  of  the 
embankment  beside  his  captain.  Being  quite  short,  he  rested 
his  gun  against  the  breastwork,  and  arranged  some  cobble- 
stones so  that  he  might  be  able  to  get  a  sight  as  well  as 
the  rest.  While  thus  occupied,  a  cannon-ball  from  one  of  the 
enemy's  frigates  passed  close  above  his  head,  brushing  the 
dust  of  the  rampart  into  his  musket  so  that  it  was  quite  full. 
At  this    narrow   escape   Captain    Bancroft  turned,    and    said. 


BUNKER  HILL  AND  THE  MONUMENT.         65 

"  See  there,  Enoch,  they  have  filled  your  gun  full  of  dust ! " 
To  this  Jewett  replied,  "  I  don't  care,  I  '11  give  them  dust 
and  all !  "  and,  suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  discharged  his 
piece  into  the  British  ranks. 

The  ever-lamous  redoubt  was  only  eight  rods  square,  with  a 
salient  in  the  southern  face,  which  looked  towards  Charles- 
town.  The  entrance  was  by  the  north  side,  in  which  an  open- 
ing had  been  left.  Inside  the  work  the  men  had  raised  a  plat- 
form of  earth  on  which  to  stand  while  they  rested  their  guns 
upon  the  embankment.  The  monument  stands  in  the  middle 
of  the  space  formerly  enclosed  by  the  redoubt,  the  whole  area 
of  which  should  have  been  included  within  an  iron  fence, 
composed  of  suitable  emblems. 

The  eastern  face  of  the  redoubt  was  prolonged  by  a  wall  of 
earth  breast-high,  for  a  hundred  yards  towards  the  Mystic. 
Chastellux,  who  visited  the  spot  a  few  years  after  the  battle, 
said  this  breastwork  had  no  ditch,  but  was  only  a  slight  in- 
trenchment.  It  was  doubtless  intended,  had  there  been  time, 
to  have  continued  the  defences  across  the  intervening  space  to 
the  river. 

Near  the  base  of  Bunker  Hill,  two  hundred  yards  in  rear 
of  the  redoubt,  and  ranging  nearly  parallel  with  its  eastern  face, 
was  a  stone-wall  behind  which  Knowlton,  with  the  Connecticut 
troops  and  two  pieces  of  artillery,  posted  himself.  In  front 
of  his  stone-wall  was  another  fence,  the  two  enclosing  a  lane. 
Knowlton's  men  filled  the  space  between  with  the  loose  hay 
recently  cut  and  lying  in  cocks  on  the  field.  This  fence 
extended  to  the  river-bank,  which  was  nine  or  ten  feet  above 
the  beach  below.  Stark's  men  heaped  up  the  loose  stones  of 
the  beach  until  they  had  made  a  formidable  rampart  to  the 
water's  edge. 

This  made  a  good  defence  everywhere  except  in  the  space 
between  the  point  where  the  breastwork  ended  and  Knowl- 
ton's and  Stark's  fence.  Wilkinson  says  this  space  was  occupied 
by  a  post  and  rail  fence  beginning  at  the  northeast  angle  of  the 
redoubt,  and  ninning  back  two  hundred  yards  in  an  oblique  line 
until  it  intersected  the  fence  previously  described.     Frothing- 


66       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

ham  says  this  line  was  sHghtly  protected,  a  part  of  it,  about 
one  hundred  yards  in  extent,  being  open  to  the  enemy.  Howe's 
engineer-officer  calls  it  a  hedge.  On  another  British  map  (De 
Berniere's)  it  appears  undefended  by  any  kind  of  works.  By 
all  accounts  it  was  the  weak  point  of  the  defences,  and  the 
lire  of  the  British  artillery  was  concentrated  upon  it. 

After  they  obtained  possession  of  the  hill,  the  British  de- 
stroyed the  temporary  works  of  the  Americans  only  so  far  as 
they  obstructed  the  free  movements  of  their  men  and  material. 
Dr.  Jolm  Warren,  who  visited  the  spot  a  few  days  after  the 
evacuation,  probably  refers  to  the  removal  of  the  fences  when 
he  says  the  works  that  had  been  cast  up  by  our  forces  were 
completely  levelled.  Wilkinson  at  the  same  time  plainly  saw 
vestiges  of  the  post  and  rail  fences,  examined  the  redoubt,  and 
rested  on  the  rampart.  Governor  Brooks  examined  the  ground 
in  1818,  and  entered  the  redoubt.  A  visitor  in  1824  says 
the  redoubt  was  nearly  effaced  ;  scarcely  a  trace  of  it  remain- 
ing, while  the  intreiicliment  running  towards  the  marsh  was 
still  distinct.  A  portion  of  this  breastwork  remained  visible 
as  late  as  1841.  Stones  suitably  inscribed  liave  been  placed  to 
mark  the  position  of  the  breastwork,  of  which  a  little  grassy 
mound,  now  remaining,  is  supposed  to.  have  formed  a  part. 

The  most  singular  phase  which  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill 
presents  is  that  in  which  we  see  the  provincial  officers  fighting 
under  the  authority  of  commissions  issued  to  them  in  the  name 
of  the  reigning  monarch  of  (4reat  Britain.  Yet  such  was  the 
fact.  Probably  the  greater  number  of  those  officers  exercised 
command  in  the  name  of  that  king  whose  soldiers  they  were 
endeavoring  to  destroy.  The  situation  seems  wholly  anoma- 
lous, and  we  doubt  if  there  Avere  ever  before  rebels  who  car- 
ried on  rebellion  with  such  means.  The  officers  who  were  made 
prisoners  —  and  some  of  them  were  captured  in  this  battle  — 
could  only  prove  their  rank  by  the  exhibition  of  the  royal 
warrant,  the  same  under  which  their  captors  acted. 

This  state  of  things  would,  perhaps,  only  go  to  show  that 
the  colonists  had  not  yet  squarely  come  up  to  the  point  of 
throwing  off  their  allegiance,  were  it  not  that  the  measure  of 


BUNKER  HILL  AND  THE  MONUMENT.         67 

continuing,  or  even  issuing  commissions  to  military  and  civil 
officers  in  the  king's  name,  was  prolonged  by  the  legislative 
and  executive  authority  of  Massachusetts,  long  after  the  Dec- 
laration of  Indej^endence  by  the  Thirteen  United  Colonies. 

The  absurdity  of  their  position  seems  to  have  been  perfectly 
comprehended,  as  the  General  Court,  May  1,  1776,  passed  an 
Act,  to  take  effect  on  the  hrst  day  of  June  in  that  year,  by 
which  the  style  of  commissions,  civil  and  military,  was  there- 
after to  be  in  the  name  of  the  government  and  people  of 
Massachusetts  Bay,  in  jS'ew  England.  These  commissions  were 
to  be  dated  in  the  year  of  the  Christian  era,  and  not  in  that 
of  the  reigning  sovereign  of  Great  Britain.  This  renunciation 
of  allegiance  to  the  crown  —  for  such  in  fact  it  was  —  was  a  bold 
act,  and  placed  Massachusetts  in  the  van  of  the  movement  to- 
wards independent  sovereignty.  It  has,  in  reality,  been  called 
a  Declaration  of  Independence  by  Massachusetts,  two  months 
earlier  than  that  by  the  Congress  at  Philadelphia ;  but  as  Mas- 
sachusetts, as  a  matter  of  expediency,  virtually  annulled  her 
own  action  by  subsequent  legislation,  she  cannot  maintain 
her  claim  in  this  regard.  By  the  Act  referred  to,  the  19th  Sep- 
tember, 1776,  was  fixed  as  the  date  when  such  commissions 
as  had  not  been  made  to  conform  with  the  new  law  should 
be  vacated. 

But,  in  consequence  of  the  failure  of  many  of  the  officers  of 
the  militia  who  were  in  actual  service  to  have  their  commis- 
sions altered  to  tlie  new  style,  and  especially  in  view  of  the 
desperate  circumstances  in  which  our  army  found  itself  after 
the  battle  of  Long  Island,  a  resolve  passed  the  Massachusetts 
House  on  the  16th  September,  1776,  as  follows  :  — 

"  It  is  therefore  Resolved,  That  all  Military  Commissions  now 
in  force,  shall  be  and  continue  in  full  force  and  effect  on  the  same 
nineteenth  day  oi  September ^  and  from  thence  to  the  19th  day  oi  Jan- 
uary next  after,  such  commissions  not  being  made  to  conform  as 
aforesaid  notwithstanding." 

So  that  the  men  of  Massachusetts  continued  to  fight  against 
George  III.,  with  his  commissions  in  their  pockets,  for  more 


68        HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

than  six  months  after  the  Declaration  of  Independence  by  the 
Thirteen  United  Colonies.  One  of  these  commissions,  dated 
in  the  reign  of  King  George,  and  as  late  as  the  10th  of  De- 
cember, 1776,  is  in  the  \\Titer's  possession. 

Commissions  were  issued  by  the  Provincial  Congress  of 
Massachusetts  before  Bunker  Hill,  and  these  did  not  bear  the 
king's  name,  but  expressed  the  holders'  appointment  in  the 
army  raised  for  the  defence  of  the  colony.  Some  of  the  offi- 
cers engaged  at  Bunker  Hill  only  received  their  commissions 
the  day  before  the  battle.  The  two  Brewers  were  of  these. 
Samuel  Gerrish's  regiment,  which  remained  inactive  on  Bun- 
ker Hill  during  the  engagement,  Mr.  Frothingham  supposes 
was  not  commissioned ;  but  Gerrish  had  received  his  appoint- 
ment as  colonel,  and  James  Wesson  was  commissioned  major 
on  the  19th  of  May,  1775. 

After  the  battle  of  the  1 7th  of  June  the  Provincial  Congress 
recommended  a  day  of  fasting,  humiliation,  and  prayer  to  be 
observed,  in  which  the  Divine  blessing  is  invoked  "on  our 
rightful  sovereign.  King  George  III."  *  The  army  chaplains 
continued  to  pray  for  the  king  until  long  after  the  arrival  of 
General  Washington,  as  we  learn  from  Dr.  Jeremy  Belknap's 
account  of  his  visit  to  the  camps  before  Boston,  in  October, 

1775,  when  he  observed  that  the  plan  of  independence  was  be- 
coming a  favorite  point  in  the  army,  and  that  it  was  offensive 
to  pray  for  the  king.  Under  the  date  of  October  2 2d  the  good 
Doctor  enters  in  his  journal :  — 

"  Preached  all  day  in  the  meeting-house.  After  meeting  I  was 
again  told  by  the  chaplain  that  it  was  disagreeable  to  the  generals 
to  pray  for  the  king.  I  answered  that  the  same  authority  which 
appointed  the  generals  had  ordered  the  king  to  be  prayed  for 
at  the  late  Continental  Fast  ;  and,  till  that  was  revoked,  I  should 
think  it  my  duty  to  do  it.  Dr.  Appleton  prayed  in  the  afternoon, 
and  mentioned  the  king  with  much  affection.  It  is  too  assuming  in 
the  generals  to  find  fault  with  it." 

John  Adams,  in  a  letter  to  William  Tudor,  of  April  24, 

1776,  says : — 

*  Boston  Gazette,  July  3,  1775. 


BUNKER  HILL  AND  THE  MONUMENT.         69 

"  How  is  it  possible  for  people  to  hear  the  crier  of  a  court  pro- 
nounce "  God  save  the  King  !  "  and  for  jurors  to  swear  well  and 
truly  to  try  an  issue  between  our  Sovereign  Lord  the  King  and  a 
prisoner,  or  to  keep  his  Majesty's  secrets,  in  these  days,  I  can't  con- 
ceive. Don't  the  clergy  pray  that  he  may  overcome  and  vanquish 
all  his  enemies  yet  ?     What  do  they  mean  Ijy  his  enemies  ?     Your 


army 


"  Have  people  no  consciences,  or  do  they  look  upon  all  oaths  to  be 
custom-house  oaths  l  "  * 

We  have  presented  the  foregoing  examples  in  order  to  show 
by  what  slow  degrees  the  idea  of  separation  germinated  in  the 
minds  of  the  colonists.  Hostilities  were  begun  to  regain  their 
constitutional  liberties,  just  as  the  war  of  the  Great  Rebellion 
of  1861  was  first  waged  solely  in  the  view  of  establishing  the 
authority  of  the  Constitution  and  the  laws.  If  "  all  history  is 
a  romance,  unless  it  is  studied  as  an  example,"  we  do  not  seem 
to  have  developed  in  a  hundred  years  a  greater  grasp  of  national 
questions  than  those  hard-thinking  and  hard-hitting  colonists 


The  constitution  of  the  Provincial  army  was  modelled  after 
that  of  the  British.  The  general  officers  had  regiments,  as  in 
the  king's  service.  The  regiments  and  companies  were  in 
number  and  strength  similar  to  those  of  the  regular  troops. 
Thus  we  frequently  meet  with  mention  of  the  Honorable  Gen- 
eral Ward's,  Thomas's,  or  Heath's  regiments.  This  custom 
lapsed  upon  the  creation  of  a  new  army.  In  the  British  service 
the  generals  were  addressed  or  spoken  of  as  Mr.  Howe  or  Mr. 
Clinton,  except  the  general-in-chief,  who  was  styled  "  His  Ex- 
cellency." Our  own  army  adopted  this  custom  in  so  ftir  as  the 
commanding  general  was  concerned ;  but  the  subordinate  gen- 
erals, many  of  whom  had  come  from  private  Ufe,  were  little  in- 
clined to  waive  their  military  designation  and  continue  plain 
Mister.  It  is  still  a  rule  of  the  English  and  American  service 
to  address  a  subaltern  as  Mr. 

To  return  to  the  battle,  —  which  was  first  called  by  our 
troops  the  "  Battle  of  Charlestown,"  —  it  is  worthy  of  remem- 

*  Mass.  Hist.  Collections,  IL  viii. 


70       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

brance  that  the  orders  to  take  possession  of  the  hill  were  issued 
on  the  same  day  that  Washington  was  officially  notified  of  his 
appointment  to  command  the  army.  He  had  scarcely  proceeded 
twenty  miles  on  the  way  to  Cambridge,  when  he  met  the 
courier  spurring  in  hot  haste  with  the  despatches  to  Congress 
of  the  battle.  The  rider  was  stopped,  and  the  General  opened 
and  read  the  despatch,  while  Lee,  Schuyler,  and  the  other  gen- 
tlemen who  attended  him  eagerly  questioned  the  messenger.  It 
was  on  this  occasion  that  Washington,  upon  hearing  that  the 
militia  had  withstood  the  lire  of  the  regulars,  exclaimed,  "  Then 
the  liberties  of  the  country  are  safe  !  " 

A  variety  of  conflicting  accounts  have  been  given  of  the 
battle  by  eyewitnesses ;  the  narrators,  as  is  usual,  seeing  only 
what  passed  in  their  own  immediate  vicinity.  On  the  day  of 
the  evacuation  of  Boston  by  the  British  Major  Wilkinson  ac- 
companied Colonels  Reed  and  Stark  over  the  battle-ground,  and 
the  latter  pointed  out  to  him  the  various  positions  and  described 
the  parts  played  by  the  different  actors.  The  vestiges  of  the 
post  and  rail  fence  on  the  left,  and  of  the  stone-wall  Stark 
ordered  "  his  boys  "  to  throw  up  on  the  beach  of  the  Mystic, 
were  still  plainly  visible.  It  was  before  this  deadly  stone-wall 
where  the  British  light-infantry  attacked  that  John  Winslow 
counted  ninety-six  dead  bodies  the  next  day  after  the  battle. 
Stark  told  Wilkinson  that  "  the  dead  lay  as  thick  as  sheep  in 
a  fold,"  and  that  he  had  forbidden  his  men  to  fire  until  the 
enemy  reached  a  point  he  had  marked  in  the  bank,  eight  or 
ten  rods  distant  from  his  line.  With  such  marksmen  as  Stark's 
men  were,  every  man  covering  his  adversary,  it  is  no  wonder 
the  head  of  the  British  column  was  shot  in  pieces,  or  that  it 
drifted  in  mutilated  fragments  away  from  the  horrible  feu 
cfenfer. 

Before  the  action,  when  some  one  asked  him  if  the  rebels 
would  stand  fire.  General  Gage  replied,  "Yes,  if  one  John 
Stark  is  there ;  for  he  is  a  brave  fellow."  Through  his  glass 
the  General  saw  Prescott  standing  on  the  crest  of  the  embank- 
ment. "Who  is  he?"  inquired  the  General  of  Councillor 
Willard,  Prescott's  brother-in-law.     He  was  told.     "Will  he 


BUNKER  HILL  AND  THE  MONUMENT.         71 

fight?"  demanded  Gage.  "  To  the  hist  drop  of  blood  in  his 
veins  !  "  repUed  Willard.  Prescott  wore,  on  this  day,  a  single- 
breasted  blue  coat  with  facings  turned  up  at  the  skirt,  a  top- 
wig  and  three-cornered  hat. 

The  American  lield-hospital  during  the  battle  was  fixed  at 
the  old  Sun  Tavern,  on  the  north  side  of  Bunker  Hill.  Dr. 
Eustis,  Andrew  Craigie,  and  others  officiated  there.  Some  of 
the  wounded  early  in  the  engagement  were,  however,  removed 
to  the  mainland.  The  same  tavern  was  one  of  the  places 
named  by  the  Committee  of  Safety  for  granting  permits  to  go 
into  Boston  in  April,  1775. 

The  American  prisoners  were  treated  with  extreme  inhuman- 
ity. They  w^ere  conveyed  over  to  Long  Wharf  in  Boston,  and 
allowed  to  lie  there  all  night  without  any  care  for  their  wounds, 
or  other  resting-place  than  the  ground.  The  next  day  they 
were  removed  to  Boston  Jail,  where  several  died  before  their 
final  transfer  to  Halifax.  General  Washington  earnestly  en- 
deavored to  mitigate  the  sufferings  of  these  unfortunate  men  ; 
but  the  status  of  rebel  prisoners  had  not  yet  been  established^ 
or  a  cartel  of  exchange  arranged. 

Both  parties  were  exhausted  by  the  battle.  The  Americans 
feared  an  immediate  advance  on  Cambridge ;  the  British,  ap- 
prehending an  assault  from  the  fresh  troops  of  the  Americans, 
intrenched  on  the  northern  face  of  Bunker  Hill,  while  the  52d 
regiment  bivouacked,  on  the  night  of  the  17th,  in  the  main 
street  of  the  town,  so  as  to  cover  the  mill-pond  causeway  and 
the  approach  over  the  Neck.  Dr.  Church,  in  his  defence,  says, 
"  Your  Honor  \vell  knows  what  was  our  situation  after  the 
action  of  Bunker  Hill ;  insomuch  that  it  was  generally  believed, 
had  the  British  troops  been  in  a  condition  to  pursue  their 
success,  they  might  have  reached  Cambridge  wdth  very  little 
opposition." 

The  minority  in  Parliament  were  A'-ery  severe  in  their  remarks 
on  the  conduct  of  their  troops  at  Lexington  and  Bunker  Hill. 
Howe's  forcing  the  lines  thrown  up  by  a  handful  of  raw, 
undisciplined  militia  in  the  course  of  a  summer's  niglit  was 
ludicrously  compared  to  a  Marlborough's  victory  at  Blenheim. 


72       HISTOKIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

The  death  of  Warren  was  the  greatest  loss  the  American 
cause  sustained  on  that  day.  The  spot  where  he  fell,  while 
lingering  in  a  retreat  his  soul  rebelled  against,  is  marked  by  a 
stone  in  the  northerly  part  of  tlie  monument  grounds.  The 
last  words  he  was  heard  to  utter  were :  "  I  am  a  dead  man.  Fight 
on,  my  brave  fellows,  for  the  salvation  of  your  country."  His 
remains  were  buried  on  the  held,  with  such  disregard  of  the 
claims  of  rank,  as  a  man  and  a  citizen,  that  only  the  -supposi- 
tion that  Gage  feared  to  place  them  in  the  hands  of  his  (War- 
ren's) friends  for  political  reasons  can  account  for  the  indignity 
with  which  the  body  was  treated.  As  for  the  Americans  with 
whom  he  fought,  it  is  not  known  that  they  made  the  least 
effort  to  obtain  the  remains.  He  died  and  received  the  burial 
of  an  American  rebel,  a  name  of  which  his  descendants  are  not 
ashamed. 

"  No  useless  coffin  enclosed  his  breast, 

Not  in  sheet  or  in  shrond  we  bound  him, 
But  he  lay  like  a  warrior  taking  his  rest, 
With  his  martial  cloak  around  him." 

When  he  entered  the  redoubt  to  which  Putnam  had  directed 
him  as  the  post  of  honor,  Prescott  addressed  him,  saying,  "Dr. 
Warren,  do  you  come  here  to  take  the  command  1"  "l^o, 
Colonel,"  repUed  the  Doctor ;  "  but  to  give  what  assistance  I 
can,  and  to  let  these  damned  rascals  see "  —  pointing  to  the 
British  troops— "that  the  Yankees  will  fight."  This  was 
the  relation  of  Dr.  Eustis,  who  was  within  the  redoubt,  to 
General  Wilkinson.  Eustis,  afterwards  governor  of  Massachu- 
setts, was  a  student  with  Warren,  and  had  been  commissioned 
surgeon  of  Gridley's  regiment  of  artillery.  After  the  battle 
he  attended  tl>e  wounded,  and  was  placed  in  charge  of  the 
military  hospital  established  at  Rev.  Samuel  Cook's  house  at 
Menotomy,  now  Arlington. 

The  slaughter  of  British  officers  at  Bunker  Hill  was  terrible 
indeed.  The  bloodiest  battles  in  which  British  soldiers  had 
been  engaged  suffered  by  the  comparison.  Quebec  and  Min- 
den  were  no  longer  recollected  with  horror.  Spendlove,  Major 
of  the  43d,  who  died  of  his  wounds  here,  had  been  gazetted 


BUNKER  HILL  AND  THE  MONUMENT.         73 

four  times  for  wounds  received  in  America ;  namely,  with 
Wolfe,  on  the  Plains  of  Abraham,  at  the  reduction  of  Mar- 
tinico,  the  taking  of  Havana,  and  at  Bunker  Hill.  There  is  no 
doubt  Pitcairn  was  singled  out  for  his  share  in  the  Lexington 
battle;  his  person  was  well  known  in  the  American  ranks. 
Dearborn  says  he  was  on  horseback,  and  the  only  mounted 
officer  of  the  enemy  on  the  field.  Abercrombie,  borne-  away 
with  a  mortal  hurt,  begged  his  men  not  to  kill  his  old  friend 
Putnam.     Each  of  these  officers  commanded  battalions. 

The  effect  on  the  new  levies  in  England  was  marked.  An 
officer  who  resigned,  upon  being  asked  the  reason,  replied,  that 
he  wanted  to  see  a  little  more  of  the  world.  "  Why  don't 
you  go  to  America  with  the  troops  ? "  said  the  querist.  "  You 
will  then  have  an  opportunity  of  seeing  the  world  soon." 
"  Yes,"  replied  the  officer,  "  the  other  world  I  believe  I  should 
very  soon ;  but  as  I  am  not  tii'ed  of  this,  I  do  not  choose  to  set 
out  on  my  journey  yet." 

These  celebrated  heights  were  eventually  cultivated,  and  pro- 
duced astonishing  crops  of  hemp,  etc.,  so  that  in  this  respect 
they  followed  in  the  train  of  the  memorable  Plains  of  Abra- 
ham, which  Lord  Dalhousie,  when  he  was  governor-general  of 
Canada,  ordered  to  be  ploughed  up  and  seeded  in  grain.  This 
was  laid  hold  of  by  the  wits,  who  perpetrated  the  following 
epigram  :  — 

"  Some  care  for  honor,  others  care  for  groats,  — 
Here  Wolfe  reaped  glory  and  Dalhousie  oats." 

The  Freemasons  have  the  honor  of  taking  the  initiative  in  a 
structure  to  commemorate  the  heroic  death  of  their  Grand- 
Master,  Joseph  Warren.  In  1794  King  Solomon's  Lodge  of 
Charlestown  erected  a  Tuscan  column  of  wood,  elevated  on  a 
brick  pedestal  eight  feet  square,  and  surmounted  by  a  gilded 
urn,  bearing  the  age  and  initials  of  the  illustrious  dead, 
encircled  with  Masonic  emblems.  The  whole  height  of  the 
pillar  was  twenty-eight  feet. 

The  face  of  the  south  side  of  the  base  bore  the  following 
inscription :  — 


74       HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

Erected,  A.  D.  MDCCXCIV. 

By  King  Solomon's  Lodge  of  Freemasons. 

Constituted  in  Charlestown,  1783, 

In  Memory  of 

Major-General  Joseph  Warren, 

And  his  Associates, 

Wlio  were  slain  on  this  memorable  spot,  June  17,  1775. 

None  but  they  who  set  a  just  value  on  the  blessings  of  Liberty  are  worthy 
to  enjoy  her. 

In  vain  we  toiled  ;  in  vain  we  fought ;  we  bled  in  vain  ;  if  you,  our  off- 
spring, want  valor  to  repel  the  assaults  of  her  invaders. 

Charlestown  settled,  1628. 
Burnt,  1775.    Rebuilt,  1776. 

The  enclosed  land  given  by  the  Hon .  James  Russell. 

This  structure  stood  for  about  thirty  years,  but  was  in  a 
state  of  ruinous  dilapidation  before  the  movement  to  raise  on 
the  spot  its  giant  successor  caused  its  disappearance.  A  beauti- 
ful model  in  marble  of  the  first  monument  may  still  be  seen 
within  the  present  obelisk. 

William  Tudor  of  Boston,  the  accomplished  scholar,  was  the 
first  to  draw  public  attention  to  the  building  of  a  memorial  on 
Bunker  Hill  commensurate  with  the  event  it  was  intended  to 
celebrate.  He  pursued  the  subject  until  the  sympathies  and 
co-operation  of  many  distinguished  citizens  were  secured.  Dan- 
iel Webster  was  early  enlisted  in  the  cause,  and  he  stated  that 
it  was  in  Thomas  H.  Perkins's  house,  in  Boston,  that  William 
Tudor,  William  Sullivan,  and  George  Blake  adopted  the  first 
step  towards  raising  a  monument  on  Bunker  Hill.  Dr.  John  C. 
Warren,  nephew  of  the  General,  purchased  three  acres  of  land 
lying  on  the  hill,  in  November,  1822,  thus  preserving  for  the 
monument  site  an  area  that  was  about  to  be  sold.  A  meeting 
of  those  friendly  to  the  enterprise  was  held  in  the  Merchants' 
Exchange,  in  Boston,  in  May,  1823,  which  resolved  itself, 
under  an  act  of  incorporation  passed  June  7,  1823,  into  the 
Bunker  Hill  Monument  Association.  Governor  John  Brooks 
was  the  first  jDresident. 

In    1824    Lafayette,    then    on  his    triumphal  tour  through 


BUNKER  HILL  AND  THE  MONUMENT.         75 

the  United  States,  paid  a  visit  to  the  scene  of  the  battle,  and 
accepted  an  invitation  to  assist  at  the  laying  of  the  corner- 
stone on  the  ensuing  anniversary.  Meantime  the  directors 
were  considering  the  plan  for  the  monument.  A  committee 
for  this  object  was  formed  of  Messrs.  Daniel  Webster,  Loammi 
Baldwin,  George  Ticknor,  Gilbert  Stuart,  and  Washington 
Allston,  and  some  hfty  plans  appeared  to  compete  for  the; 
offered  premium.  This  committee,  able  as  it  was,  did  not 
make  a  decision ;  but  a  new  one,  of  which  General  H.  A.  S. 
Dearborn,  Edward  Everett,  Seth  Knowles,  S.  D.  Harris,  and 
Colonel  T.  H.  Perkins  were  members,  eventually  made  choice 
of  the  obelisk  as  the  simplest,  and  at  the  same  time  the  grand- 
est, form  in  which  their  ideal  could  be  expressed. 

It  is  stated  that  Horatio  Greenough,  then  an  undergraduate 
at  Harvard,  sent  to  the  committee  a  design,  with  an  essay,  in 
which  he  advocated  the  obelisk  with  much  power  and  feeling. 
The  design  finally  adopted  was  Greenough's,  modified  by  the 
taste  and  judgment  of  Colonel  Baldwin.  Solomon  Willard, 
the  architect,  made  the  working  plan. 

The  occasion  of  laying  the  corner-stone  was  made  as  im- 
posing as  possible.  The  day  was  everything  that  could  be 
desired.  The  military  and  civic  bodies  appeared  to  great  advan- 
tage, while  the  presence  of  Lafayette  gave  an  added  eclat  to 
the  pageant.  The  streets  of  Boston  were  thronged  with  an 
immense  multitude,  and  again  Charlestown  was  invaded  by  an 
army  with  banners,  but  with  more  hospitable  intent  than  the 
display  of  fifty  years  before  had  witnessed.  Some  forty  sur- 
vivors of  the  battle  appeared  in  the  ranks  of  the  procession. 
Their  course  was  followed  by  the  loudest  acclamations,  and  the 
waving  of  many  handkerchiefs  wet  with  the  tears  of  the  gentler 
sex ;  while  many  a  manly  eye  could  not  refuse  its  tribute  to  a 
spectacle  so  touching  as  were  these  visible  relics  of  the  battle. 
One  aged  veteran  stood  up  in  the  midst  of  the  multitude,  and 
exhibited  the  simple  equipments  he  wore  when  a  soldier  of 
Prescott's  Spartan  band.  Not  Webster,  not  even  the  noble 
Frenchman,  so  moved  the  hearts  of  the  people,  as  did  tlieso 
old  men,  with  their  white  hairs,  their  bowed  forms,  aii<l  their 
venerable  aspect. 


76       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

The  ceremony  of  laying  the  corner-stone  proceeded  under 
the  direction  of  King  Solomon's  Lodge ;  Mr.  Webster,  then 
president  of  the  Monument  Association,  and  the  Marquis  as- 
sisting. The  plate,  containing  a  long  inscription,  was  depos- 
ited in  its  place,  and  the  exercises  were  continued  in  a  spacious 
amphitheatre  erected  on  the  northerly  slope  of  the  hill.  Here 
Mr.  Webster  delivered  his  oration,  and  the  day  finished  with  a 
banquet  on  Bunker  Hill.  The  corner-stone  proved  not  to  be 
deep  enough  to  resist  the  action  of  frost,  and  it  was  therefore 
subsequently  relaid.  The  box  containing  the  inscription  was 
eventually  placed  under  the  northeast  angle  of  the  monument. 

The  erection  of  the  monument  proceeded  under  continued 
difficulties,  the  work  frequently  halting  for  want  of  funds, 
until  its  completion  on  the  morning  of  July  23,  1842,  when 
the  last  stone  was  raised  to  its  place.  To  the  patriotic  efforts 
of  the  ladies  is  due  the  final  realization  of  the  original  design. 
The  association  had  been  compelled  not  only  to  sell  off"  a  por- 
tion of  its  land,  but  also  to  diminish  the  height  of  the  obelisk  ; 
but  the  proceeds  of  the  fair  conducted  by  the  ladies  in  the 
hall  of  Quincy  Market  (Boston)  realized  $  30,000,  and  the  vote 
which  had  been  adopted  to  consider  the  momiment  completed 
at  one  hundred  and  fifty-nine  feet  of  altitude  was  rescinded. 

The  same  great  orator  who  had  presided  at  the  incipient 
stage  of  the  structure  addressed  another  vast  audience  on  the 
day  of  dedication  in  1843,  But  of  the  twoscore  living  rep- 
resentatives of  the  army  of  constitutional  liberty  there  re- 
mained but  eleven  individuals  to  grace  the  occasion  by  their 
presence.  They  were,  J,  Johnson,  N,  Andrews,  E,  Dresser, 
J,  Cleveland,  J,  Smith,  P.  Bagley,  R.  Plaisted,  E.  Reynolds, 
J,  Stephens,  ^.  Porter,  J.  Harvey,  and  I,  Hobbs, 

Mr.  Webster  was  himself  on  that  day,  and  his  apostrophe  to 
the  gigantic  shaft  was  as  grand  and  noble  as  the  subject  was 
lofty  and  sublime.  Hawthorne,  who  certainly  did  not  want 
for  creative  power,  has  declared  that  he  never  found  his  imagi- 
nation much  excited  in  the  presence  of  scenes  of  historic 
celebrity ;  but  this  was  not  the  experience  of  the  hundred 
thousand  spectators  who  stood  beneath  the  majestic  shaft,  awed 


BUNKER  HILL  AND  THE  MONUMENT.        77 

by  the  presence  of  those  men  who  brought  the  extremes  of  our 
national  existence  together,  and  moved  by  the  recollections 
which  the  theatre  itself  inspired. 

Mr.  Webster  applied  this  test  to  his  auditory  when,  waving 
his  hand  towards  the  towering  structure,  lie  said,  "  The  power- 
ful speaker  stands  motionless  before  us."  He  was  himself 
deeply  moved.  The  sight  of  such  an  immense  sea  of  upturned 
faces  —  he  had  never  before  addressed  such  a  multitude  —  he 
afterwards  spoke  of  as  awful  and  oppressive.  The  applause 
from  a  hundred  thousand  tliroats  surged  in  gi-eat  waves  around 
the  orator,  completing  in  his  mind  the  parallel  of  Old  Ocean. 

Within  the  little  building  appropriated  to  the  keeper  is  a 
marble  statue  of  General  Warren,  in  citizen's  dress,  by  Dexter. 
The  figure  stands  on  a  beautiful  pedestal  of  verd-antique  marble, 
the  gift  of  the  late  Dr.  J.  C.  Warren.  The  artist's  conception  was 
excellent  in  theory,  but  the  peculiar  pose  of  the  head  effectually 
prevents  the  features  being  seen  by  the  spectator,  except  in 
profile,  as  the  work  is  now  placed.  The  statue,  to  be  viewed 
to  advantage,  should  be  situated  in  the  middle  of  a  suitable 
apartment,  or  where  it  might  have  space  enough  to  permit  an 
understanding  of  the  subject  at  a  single  coup  cVcml.  Copley's 
portrait,  in  Faneuil  Hall,  was  the  artist's  study  for  the  head. 
Mr.  Dexter  has  been  singidarly  successful  in  his  studies  from 
hfe,  as  well  as  ideal  subjects.  Colonel  Thomas  H.  Perkins  was 
the  prime  mover  of  the  statue,  and  with  John  Welles,  the  two 
noble  brothers  Amos  and  Abbott  Lawrence,  and  Samuel  Apple- 
ton,  contributed  half  the  necessary  funds. 

We  were  not  a  little  amused  at  a  little  outcropping  of  that 
species  of  flunkeyism  in  this  place  which  we  have  hitherto  sup- 
posed peculiar  to  our  English  cousins.  The  Prince  of  Wales 
and  suite  having  visited  the  spot  on  the  occasion  of  his  sojourn 
in  Boston,  the  autographs  of  "Albert  Edward,"  "  Xewcastle," 
*•'  Lyons,"  etc.  were  carefully  removed  from  the  visitors'  book, 
and  have  been  artistically  framed,  in  connection  with  an  account 
of  the  ^dsit,  in  which  the  names  of  the  gentlemen  who  were  in- 
troduced to  H.  R.  H.  were  not  forgotten.  We  looked  around  in 
vain  for  any  memento  of  the  visit  of  a  President  of  the  United 


78        HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

States  such  as  is  accorded  to  the  heir  presumptive  of  the  British 
throne.  The  object  of  the  structure  being  made  known,  the 
Prince  is  said  to  have  remarked  pleasantly,  "It  is  time  these 
old  matters  were  forgotten."  Nevertheless,  we  do  not  believe 
he  will  pull  down  the  Nelson  monument  or  the  AVellington 
statue,  when  he  comes  to  the  throne  of  his  ancestors. 

A  celebrated  statesman  of  Europe,  whom  Cromwell  named 
"  the  wise  man  of  the  Continent,"  once  sent  his  son  on  a  visit 
to  foreign  courts  with  only  this  admonition,  "  Go,  my  son,  and 
see  by  what  fools  the  world  is  governed."  We  do  not  say  that 
such  was  Victoria's  counsel  to  her  eldest  son,  but  we  do  affirm 
that  it  would  not  be  altogether  without  significance  in  this 
nineteenth  century.  When  shall  Ave  so  conduct  ourselves  to- 
wards foreign  dignitaries  as  to  secure  their  respect  and  our 
own? 

"  For  you,  young  potentate  o'  W , 

I  tell  your  Highness  fairly, 
Down  pleasure's  stream  wi'  swelling  sails 

I  'm  taiild  ye  're  driving  rarely  ; 
But  some  day  ye  may  gnaw  your  nails, 

An'  curse  your  folly  sairly, 

Tliat  e'er  ye  brak  Diana's  pales, 

Or  rattl'd  dice  Avi'  Charlie." 

The  gTeat  Whig  convention  of  September  10,  1840,  during 
the  Harrison  campaign,  brought  a  monstrous  gathering  to  this 
spot.  The  speech  of  the  occasion  was  made  by  Daniel  Web- 
ster, but  the  exercises  were  brought  to  an  abrupt  close  by  a 
violent  shower  of  rain.  It  was  at  this  time  Mr.  Webster  made 
his  ■  famous  remark,  "  Any  rain,  gentlemen,  but  the  reign  of 
Martin  Van  Buren." 

Since  that  time  we  have  had,  on  Bunker  HiU,  Mason  of  Vir- 
ginia,—  a  man  of  "unbounded  stomach,"  of  whom  Mr.  Clay 
said,  "  He  was  never  satisfied  unless  he  had  his  mouth  full  of 
tobacco  and  his  belly  full  of  oysters,"  —  and  Davis  in  Faneuil 
Hall;  but  no  Toombs  has  ever  called  the  roll  of  his  slaves 
here,  and  now,  thanks  to  the  teachings  of  temple  and  shaft ! 
not  a  manacle  remains  in  all  the  land. 

The  obelisk  is  two  hundred  and  twenty  feet  high,  exceeding 


BUNKER  HILL  AND  THE  MONUMENT.         79 

the  Loudon  Monument  built  by  Wren  to  commemorate  the 
Great  Fire,  and  sometimes  stated  to  be  the  liighest  in  the 
world,  by  eighteen  feet.  The  shaft  is  composed  of  ninety 
courses  of  stone,  of  wliich  six  are  in  the  foundation.  The 
pinnacle  consists  of  a  single  mass  weighing  two  and  a  half 
tons,  fitly  crowning  the  greatest  specimen  of  commemorative 
architecture  America  affords.  The  interior  of  the  shaft  is  a 
hollow  cone,  ascended  by  a  spiral  staircase  to  the  summit, 
where  the  visitor  finds  himself  within  a  circular  chamber, 
breathless,  perhaps,  with  his  fatiguing  climb,  but  with  an  un- 
surpassed prospect  of  land  and  sea  outspread  before  him. 

"  There  architecture's  noble  pride 
Bids  elegance  and  splendor  rise  ; 
Here  Justice,  from  her  native  skies, 

High  wields  her  balance  and  her  rod  ; 
There  Learning,  with  his  eagle  eyes, 
Seeks  Science  in  her  coy  abode." 

Within  this  chamber  are  the  two  little  brass  cannon,  Han- 
cock and  Adams,  taken  out  of  Boston  by  stealth  in  September, 
1775,  and  presented  by  Massachusetts  to  the  Monument  Associa- 
tion in  1825.  While  the  London  Monument  and  the  Column 
Vendome  have  been  much  affected  by  suicides,  we  do  not  remem- 
ber that  such  an  attempt  has  ever  been  made  from  this  shaft. 

Of  those  who  will  be  more  prominently  identified  with  Bun- 
ker Hill  Monument,  Amos  Lawrence  will  be  remembered  as  a 
benefactor,  aiding  it  liberally  with  purse  and  earnest  personal 
effort  at  a  time  when  the  friends  of  the  project  were  almost 
overcome  by  their  discouragements.  He  succeeded  in  obtain- 
ing the  active  co-operation  of  the  Charitable  Association,  and, 
by  his  will,  set  apart  a  sum  to  complete  the  monument  and 
secure  the  battle-field,  —  a  provision  his  executors  were  not 
called  upon  to  fulfil,  as  Mr.  La\ATence  lived  to  see  the  com- 
pletion of  the  memorial  shaft  in  which  he  was  so  deeply 
interested. 

Although  the  architect  of  many  noble  public  edifices,  the 
monument  will  doubtless  be  considered  as  Willard's  chef 
cCoeuvre.     A  nominal  compensation  was  all  he  would  accept 


80       HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

for  liis  services.  He  secured  the  quarry  from  which  the  granite 
was  obtained,  and  appears  among  the  Hst  of  contributors  set 
down  for  a  generous  sum. 

Edward  Everett  gave  heart  and  voice  to  the  work,  as  he 
afterwards  did  to  the  rescue  of  Mount  Vernon  from  the  hazard 
of  becoming  a  prey  to  private  speculation. 

In  taking  our  leave  of  an  object  so  familiar  to  the  citizens 
of  Massachusetts,  and  which  bears  itself  proudly  up  without  a 
single  sculptured  line  upon  its  face  to  tell  of  its  purpose,  we 
yet  remember  that  its  stony  finger  pointing  to  the  heavens  has 
a  moral  which  lips  by  which  all  hearts  were  swayed  —  when 
shall  we  hear  their  like  again  1  —  disclosed  to  us  thirty  years  ago. 
"  To-day  it  speaks  to  us.  Its  future  auditories  will  be  the  suc- 
cessive generations  of  men,  as  they  rise  up  before  it,  and  gather 
around  it.  Its  speech  will  be  of  patriotism  and  courage,  of 
civil  and  religious  liberty,  of  free  government,  of  the  moral 
improvement  and  elevation  of  mankind,  and  of  the  immortal 
memory  of  those  who,  with  heroic  devotion,  have  sacrificed  their 
lives  for  their  country." 

Bunker  Hill,  on  wliich  the  British  erected  a  very  strong  for- 
tress, was  named  for  George  Bunker,  an  early  settler.  It  is 
now  crowned  by  the  steeple  of  a  Catholic  church,  which,  thanks 
to  its  lofty  elevation,  can  be  seen  for  a  considerable  distance 
inland.  The  hill  is  already  much  encroached  upon,  and  must 
soon  follow  some  of  its  predecessors  into  the  waters  of  the 
river.  This  eminence.  Mount  Benedict,  and  Winter  Hill  are 
situated  in  a  range  from  east  to  west,  each  of  them  on  or  near 
Mystic  River.  Mount  Benedict  (Ploughed  Hill)  is  in  the  mid- 
dle, and  is  the  lowest  of  the  three  ;  its  summit  was  only  half  a 
mile  from  the  English  citadel  where  we  stand,  and  which  Sir 
Henry  Clinton  commanded  in  1775. 

As  late  as  1840  the  summit  and  northern  face  of  the  hill 
retained  the  impress  of  the  enemy's  extensive  works.  The 
utmost  labor  and  skill  the  British  generals  could  command 
were  expended  to  make  the  position  impregnable.  It  could 
have  been  turned,  and  actually  was  turned,  by  a  force  crossing 
the  mill-pond  causeway  to  its  rear;  but  its  fire  commanded 


BUNKER  HILL  AND  THE  MONUMENT.         81 

every  point  of  approach,  and  its  strong  ramparts  efi'ectiially 
protected  the  garrison.  There  is  evidence  that  General  Sulli- 
van intended  making  a  demonstration  in  force  in  this  direction 
during  the  winter  of  1775,  but  some  untoward  accident  pre- 
vented the  accomplishment  of  his  design. 

It  becomes  our  duty  to  refer  to  the  almost  obliterated  ves- 
tiges of  what  was  once  the  great  artery  of  traffic  between  Boston 
and  the  falls  of  the  Merrimack.  It  seems  incredible  that  the 
Middlesex  Canal,  the  great  enterprise  of  its  day,  should  have 
so  quickly  faded  out  of  recollection.  We  have  traced  its  scanty 
remains  through  the  towns  of  Medford  and  Wuburn,  and  have 
found  its  grass-grown  basin  and  long-neglected  tow-path  quite 
distinct  at  the  foot  of  Winter  Hill  in  the  former  town,  and 
along  the  railway  to  Lowell  in  the  latter.  In  many  places 
houses  occupy  its  former  channel.  The  steam  caravan  rushes 
by  with  a  scream  of  derision  at  the  ruin  of  its  decayed 
predecessor,  and  easily  accomplishes  in  an  hour  the  distance 
the  canal-boats  achieved  in  twelve. 

In  1793  James  Sullivan  of  Boston,  Oliver  Prescott  of  Gro- 
ton,  James  Wintlirop  of  Cambridge,  Loammi  Baldwin  of 
Woburn,  Benjamin  Hall,  Jonathan  Porter,  and  others  of  Med- 
ford, were  incorporated,  and  begun  the  construction  of  the  canal. 
It  was  at  first  contemplated  to  unite  the  Merrimack  at  Chelms- 
ford with  the  Mystic  at  Medford,  but  subsequent  legislation 
carried  the  canal  to  Charles  River  by  a  lock  at  Charlestown 
Neck,  admitting  the  boats  into  the  mill-pond,  and  another  by 
which  they  gained  an  entrance  to  the  river.  The  boats  were 
received  into  the  canal  across  the  town  of  Boston,  and  unloaded 
at  the  wharves  of  the  harbor.  The  surveys  for  the  canal  were 
made  by  Weston,  an  English  engineer,  and  Colonel  Baldwin 
superintended  the  excavation,  etc.  In  1803  the  sweet  waters 
flowed  through  and  mingled  with  the  ocean.  Superseded  by 
the  railway,  the  canal  languished  and  at  length  became  disused. 
While  it  existed  it  furnished  the  theme  of  many  a  pleasant 
fiction  of  perils  encountered  on  its  raging  stream  ;  but  now  it 
has  gone  to  rest  with  its  fellow,  the  old  stage-coach,  and  we 
are  dragged  with  resistless  speed  on  our  journey  in  the  train  of 
4*  F 


82        HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

the  iron  monster.  Peace  to  the  relics  of  the  canal,  it  was  slow 
but  sure.  There  was  not  a  reasonable  doubt  but  that  you  would 
awake  in  the  morning  in  the  same  world  in  which  you  went 
to  sleep  ;  but  now  you  repose  on  a  luxurious  couch,  to  awake 
perhaps  in  eternity. 


THE   CONTINENTAL   TRENCHES. 


83 


CHAPTER    IV. 


TE[E     CONTINENTAL     TRENCHES. 


*'  From  camp  to  camp  thro'  the  foiil  womb  of  night, 
The  hum  of  either  army  stilly  sounds, 
That  the  fix'd  sentinels  almost  receive 
The  secret  whispers  of  each  other's  watch." 

Shakespeare. 

THE  military  position  between  the 
Mystic  and  Charles  will  be  better 
understood  by  a  reference  to  the 
roads  that  in  1775  gave  communi- 
>  cation  to  the  town  of  Boston. 
Erom  Roxbury  the  main  road 
passed  through  Brookline  and 
Little  Cambridge,  now  Brighton, 
crossing  the  causeway  and  bridge 
which  leads  directly  to  the  Col- 
leges. This  was  the  route  by 
which  Lord  Percy  marched  to 
Lexington. 

From  Charlestown,  after  passing  the  Neck  by  an  artificial 
causeway,  constructed  in  1717,  two  roads  diverged,  as  they 
now  do,  at  what  was  then  a  common,  now  known  as  Sullivan 
Square.  Near  the  point  where  these  roads  separated  was  Anna 
Whittemore's  tavern,  at  which  the  Committee  of  Safety  held 
some  of  its  earliest  sessions  in  1774,  and  which  had  been  an  inn 
kept  by  her  father  as  early  as  the  famous  year  '45,  and  perhaps 
earlier.  Maiden  Bridge  is  located  upon  the  site  of  the  old 
Penny  Ferry,  over  which  travel  to  the  eastward  once  passed. 

The  first  of  these  roads,  now  known  as  Washington  Street, 
in  Somerville,  skirts  the  base  of  Prospect  Hill,  leaving  the 
McLean  Asylum  on  the  south,  and  conducting  straight  on  to 


84       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

the  Colleges.  By  this  road  the  Americans  marched  to  and 
retreated  from  Bunker  Hill.  Lord  Percy  entered  it  at  what  is 
now  Union  Square,  in  Somerville,  and  led  his  worn  battalions 
over  it  to  Charlestown. 

The  second  road  proceeded  by  Mount  Benedict  to  the  sum- 
mit of  Winter  Hill,  where  it  divided,  as  at  present ;  one  branch 
turning  northward  by  General  Royall's  to  Medford,  while  the 
other  pursued  its  way  by  the  powder-magazine  to  what  is  now 
Arlington,  then  known  as  Menotomy.  The  road  over  Winter 
Hill,  by  the  magazine,  which  it  has  been  stated  was  not  laid 
out  in  1775,  is  denominated  a  country  road  as  early  as  1703, 
and  appears  on  the  map  included  in  this  volume. 

Besides  these  there  were  no  other  roads  leading  to  the 
colonial  capital.  The  shore  between  was  yet  a  marsh,  unim- 
proved, except  for  the  hay  it  afforded,  and  reached  only  at  a 
few  points  by  unfrequented  cartways.  A  causeway  from  the 
side  of  Prospect  Hill,  and  a  bridge  across  what  is  now  Miller's 
River,  gave  access  to  the  farm  at  Lechmere's  Point.  From  the 
road  first  described  a  way  is  seen  parting  at  what  is  now  Union 
Square,  crossing  the  river  just  named  by  a  bridge,  and  leading 
by  a  circuitous  route  to  Inman's  house  in  Cambridgeport,  and 
from  thence  to  the  Colleges.  This  road,  from  the  nature  of  the 
ground,  could  have  been  but  little  used. 

Moiuit  Benedict  is  the  first  point  where  we  encounter  the 
American  line  of  investment  during  the  siege  of  Boston,  after 
passing  Charlestown  Xeck.  In  Ptevolutionary  times  it  was 
called  Ploughed  Hill,  probably  from  the  circumstance  of  its 
being  cultivated  when  the  Americans  took  possession,  while 
Winter  and  Prospect  Hills  were  still  untilled.  The  hill  was 
within  short  cannon-range  of  the  British  post  on  Bunker  Hill, 
and  its  occupation  by  the  Americans  on  the  26th  of  August, 
1775,  was  expected  to  bring  on  an  engagement  ;  in  fact, 
Washington  offered  the  enemy  battle  here,  but  the  challenge 
was  not  accepted. 

Ploughed  Hill  Avas  fortified  by  General  Sullivan  under  a 
severe  cannonade,  the  working  party  being  covered  by  a  detach- 
ment of  riflemen,  or  riflers,  as  they  were  commonly  called, 


THE    CONTINENTAL   TRENCHES.  85 

posted  in  an  orchard  and  under  the  shelter  of  stone-walls. 
Finding  they  were  not  attacked,  the  Provincials  contented 
themselves  with  stationing  a  strong  picket-guard  on  the  hill, 
usually  consisting  of  about  half  a  regiment.  Poor's  regiment 
performed  a  tour  of  duty  there  in  November,  1775.  A  guard- 
house was  built  within  the  work  for  the  accommodation  of  the 
picket,  which  was  relieved  every  day.  General  Lee  was  much 
incensed  because  an  officer  commanding  the  guard  allowed 
some  boards  to  be  pulled  off  the  guard-house  for  fuel,  and 
administered  a  sharp  reprimand. 

The  Continental  advanced  outpost  was  in  an  orchard  in  front 
of  Ploughed  Hill.  In  summer  the  poor  fellows  were  not  so 
badly  off,  but  in  the  inclement  winter  they  needed  the  great 
watch-coats  every  night  issued  to  them  before  they  went  on 
duty,  and  which  the  poverty  of  the  army  required  them  to  turn 
over  to  the  relieving  guard.  Here,  as  at  Boston  Neck,  the 
pickets  were  near  enough  to  each  other  to  converse  freely,  — 
a  practice  it  was  found  necessary  to  prohibit  in  orders.  The 
reliefs  on  both  sides  could  be  easily  counted  as  they  marched 
down  from  their  respective  camps.  The  rules  of  civilized  war- 
fare which  respect  sentinels  seem,  at  first,  to  have  been  little 
observed  at  the  Continental  outposts.  We  had  some  Indians 
posted  on  the  lines  who  could  not  understand  why  an  enemy 
should  not  be  killed  under  any  and  all  circumstances.  The 
Southern  riflemen,  also,  were  very  much  of  this  opinion,  each 
being,  Corsican-like,  intent  on  "making  his  skin."  The  British 
officers  were  soon  inspired  with  such  fear  of  these  marksmen 
that  they  took  excellent  care  to  keep  out  of  range  of  their 
dreaded  rifles. 

It  is  time  to  relate  an  incident  which  occurred  at  this  out- 
post, where  the  parleys  and  flags  that  were  necessary  on  this 
side  of  the  lines  were  exchanged.  Yer}^  soon  after  General 
Lee's  arrival  in  camp  he  took  occasion  to  despatch  a  character- 
istic letter  to  General  Burgoyne,  in  which  he  argued  the  ques- 
tion of  taxation,  lamented  while  he  censured  the  employment 
of  his  quondam  friends,  Gage,  Burgoyne,  and  Howe,  in  the 
army  of  subjugation,  and  ridiculed  the  idea  which  prevailed  in 


86       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

the  British  army  of  the  cowardice  of  the  Americans.  This  let- 
ter was  written  in  PhiladeliDhia  before  the  battle  of  Bunker 
Hill,  and  the  general  was  the  bearer  of  his  own  missive  as  far 
as  Cambridge. 

It  was  probably  not  later  than  the  morning  after  his  arrival 
in  camp  that  Lee  went  down  to  the  British  lines  on  Charles- 
town  Xeck,  —  then  pushed  about  one  hundred  and  hfty  yards 
beyond  the  isthmus,  —  hailed  the  sentinel,  and  desired  him  to 
tell  his  officers  that  General  Lee  was  there,  and  to  inform 
General  Burgoyne  that  he  had  a  letter  for  him.  The  letter 
was  to  have  been  sent  into  Boston  by  Dr.  Church,  but  was 
taken  by  Samuel  Webb  (afterwards  a  general),  aid  to  General 
Putnam,  to  the  lines  near  Bunker  Hill,  where  Major  Bruce  of 
the  38th  —  the  same  who  fought  a  duel  with  General  Pigot  — 
came  out  to  receive  it. 

Webb  advanced  and  said  :  "  Sir,  here  is  a  letter  from 
General  Lee  to  General  Burgoyne.  Will  you  be  pleased  to 
give  it  to  him  1  As  some  part  of  it  requires  an  immediate 
answer,  I  shall  be  glad  you  would  do  it  directly;  and,  also,  here 
is  another  letter  to  a  sister  of  mine,  Mrs.  Simpson,  to  whom  I 
should  be  glad  you  would  deliver  it."  The  Major  gave  him 
every  assurance  tliat  he  would  deliver  the  letter  to  Mrs.  Simp- 
son himself  and  also  to  General  Burgoyne,  but  could  not  do  it 
immediately,  as  the  General  was  on  the  other  lines,  meaning 
Boston  Neck.  "  General  Lee  ! "  exclaimed  Major  Bruce.  "  Good 
God,  sir !  is  General  Lee  there  ?  I  served  two  years  with  him 
in  Portugal.  Tell  liim,  sir,  I  am  extremely  sorry  that  my  profes- 
sion obliges  me  to  be  his  opposite  in  this  unhappy  affair.  Can't 
it  be  made  up  1  Let  me  beg  of  you  to  use  your  influence,  and 
endeavor  to  heal  this  unnatural  breach." 

Upon  hearing  that  General  Lee  had  a  letter  for  him,  Bur- 
goyne had  sent  out  a  trumpeter,  of  his  own  Light  Horse,  over 
Boston  Neck  to  receive  it,  but  then  learned  by  a  second  letter 
from  Lee  how  his  first  had  been  forwarded.  In  his  second  com- 
munication Lee  endeavored  to  obtain  an  exact  list  of  the  British 
losses  at  Bunker  Hill,  which  great  pains  had  been  taken  to 
conceal.       Major  Bruce  told    Mr.  Webb  that   Cohinel   Aber- 


THE   CONTINENTAL   TRENCHES. 


87 


crombie  of  the  22d  was  dead  of  a  fever,  —  suppressing  the  fact 
that  the  fever  was  caused  by  a  fatal  wound,  —  and  it  was  not 
until  this  parley  took  place  that  tlie  Americans  knew  of  Pit- 
cairn's  death.  Lee,  on  his  part,  enclosed  an  account  of  the 
American  losses  in  that  battle. 

As  mention  has  been  made  of  the  rifle  regiment,  the  nucleus 
of  Morgan's  celebrated  corps,  and  as  we  are  now  upon  the  scene 
of  their  earliest  ex- 


ploits,  a  brief  account 
of  the  leader  and  his 
merry  men  may  not 
be  uninteresting. 


The  riflemen  were 
raised  by  a  resolve  of 
Congress,passed  June 
14,  1775,  which  au- 
thorized the  employ- 
ment of  eight  hun- 
dred men  of  this  arm, 
and  on  the  2 2d  of 
the  same  month  two 
companies  additional 
from  Pennsylvania  were  voted.  The  expresses  despatched  by 
Congress  to  the  persons  deputed  to  raise  the  companies  had  in 
many  cases  to  ride  from  three  to  four  hundred  miles,  yet  such 
was  the  enthusiasm  with  which  officers  and  men  entered  into 
the  affair,  that  one  company  joined  Washington  at  Cambridge 
on  the  25th  of  July,  and  the  whole  body,  numbering  1,430 
men,  arrived  in  camp  on  the  5th  and  7th  of  August.  The 
whole  business  had  been  completed  in  less  than  two  months, 
and  without  the  advance  of  a  farthing  from  the  Continental 
treasury.  All  had  marched  from  four  to  seven  hundred  miles, 
encountering  the  extreme  heat  of  midsummer,  yet  they  bore 
the  fatigue  of  their  long  tramp  remarkably  well.  They  were 
chiefly  the  backwoodsmen  of  the  Shenandoah  Valley,  and 
brought  their  own  long  rifles  with  which  they  kept  the  savages 
from  their  clearin<:s  or  knocked  over  a  fat  buck  in  full  career. 


FLAG    OF   MORGANS    REGIMENT. 


88       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

Michael  Cresap,  the  same  whom  Logan,  the  Indian  chief,  charged 
with  the  cold-blooded  murder  of  his  women  and  children,  com- 
manded one  of  these  companies,  and  Otho  H.  Williams,  who 
afterwards  became  Greene's  able  assistant  in  the  South,  was 
lieutenant  of  another. 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  men  who  in  boyhood  had 
been  punished  by  their  fathers  for  shooting  their  game  any- 
where except  in  the  head  should  soon  become  the  terror  of 
their  foes,  or  that  they  should  be  spoken  of  in  the  British  camp 
as  "shirt-tail  men,  with  their  cursed  twisted  guns,  the  most 
fatal  widow-and-orphan  makers  in  the  world." 

Their  dress  was  a  white  or  brown  linen  hunting-shirt,  orna- 
mented with  a  fringe,  and  secured  by  a  belt  of  wampum,  in 
which  a  knife  and  tomahawk  were  stuck.  Their  leggings  and 
moccasins  were  ornamented  in  the  Indian  fashion  with  beads 
and  brilliantly  dyed  porcupine-quills.  A  round  hat  completed 
a  costume  which,  it  will  be  conceded,  was  simple,  appropriate, 
and  picturesque.  Tall,  athletic  fellows,  they  seemed  to  despise 
fatigue  as  they  welcomed  danger.  They  marched  in  Indian  file, 
silent,  stealthy,  and  flitting  like  shadows  though  the  forests,  to 
fall  on  the  enemy  at  some  unguarded  point. 

These  riflemen  were  the  only  purely  distinctive  body  of  men 
our  Eevolution  produced.  In  costume,  as  in  their  mode  of 
fighting,  they  were  wholly  American.  In  physique  and  martial 
bearing  they  were  worthy  to  be  compared  with  the  Highlanders 
of  Auld  Scotland.  The  devotion  of  the  men  to  their  leader 
was  that  of  clansmen  to  their  chief.  Indian  fare  in  their 
pouches  and  a  blanket  on  their  backs  found  them  ready  for 
tlie  march. 

We  have  only  to  picture  to  ourselves  a  "  Deer-slayer "  or  a 
"  Hawk-eye "  to  see  one  of  these  hard-visaged,  keen-eyed, 
weather-beaten  woodsmen  vstand  before  us.  For  a  skirmish  or 
an  ambush  such  men  were  unrivalled,  but  they  could  not  with- 
stand the  bayonet,  as  was  shown  in  the  battle  of  Long  Island, 
where  the  rifle  regiment,  then  commanded  by  Colonel  Hand, 
was  broken  by  a  charge.  Their  weapon  required  too  much 
deliberation  to  load ;  for,  after  emptying  their  rifles,  the  enemy 


THE    CONTINENTAL    TRENCHES.  89 

were  upon  them  before  they  could  force  the  patched  ball  to  the 
bottom  of  the  barrel. 

Colonel  Archibald  Campbell,  of  the  71st  Highlanders,  who, 
with  a  battalion  of  his  regiment,  was  taken  prisoner  in  Boston 
harbor  and  detained  at  Eeading,  admired  the  rifle-dress  so 
much  that  it  was  reported  he  had  one  made  for  his  own  use, 
with  which  it  was  supposed  he  meant  to  disguise  himself  and 
eff"ect  his  escape.  The  oflicer  who  made  this  discovery  described 
the  Highland  colonel  as  "  a  damned  knowing  fellow,"  and  adds, 
"  If  he  should  get  away,  I  think  he  would  make  a  formidable 
enemy ;  for  he  is  the  most  soldier-like,  best-looking  man  1 
ever  saw." 

Morgan  was  a  plain,  home-bred  man.  He  was  very  familiar 
with  his  men,  whom  he  always  called  his  boys ;  but  this 
familiarity  did  not  prevent  his  exacting  and  receiving  implicit 
obedience  to  his  orders.  Sometimes,  in  case  of  a  secret  expedi- 
tion, the  men  ordered  on  duty  were  to  be  in  readiness  by  three 
o'clock  in  the  morning.  They  were  then  mounted  behind 
horsemen  provided  for  the  purpose,  and  before  daybreak  would 
thus  accomplish  a  day's  march  for  foot-soldiers.  Morgan  told 
his  men  to  shoot  at  those  who  wore  epaulettes  rather  than  the 
poor  fellows  who  fought  for  sixpence  a  day.  He  carried  a 
conch-shell,  which  he  was  accustomed  to  sound,  to  let  his  men 
know  he  still  kept  the  field.  His  corps  was  sent  to  Gates  to 
counteract  the  fear  inspired  by  Burgoyne's  Indian  allies,  who 
were  continually  ambushing  our  outposts  and  stragglers.  It  did 
not  take  them  long  to  accomplish  this  task.  Burgoyne  after- 
wards said,  not  an  Indian  could  be  brought  within  sound  of  a 
rifle-shot.  The  British  general  himself  owed  his  life  on  one 
occasion  to  another  oflicer  being  mistaken  for  him,  who  received 
the  bullet  destined  for  his  general.  Washington  estimated  the 
corps  at  its  true  value,  and,  although  he  lent  it  temporarily  to 
Gates,  he  very  soon  applied  for  its  return ;  but  Gates  begged 
hard  to  be  permitted  to  retain  it,  and  his  victory  at  Saratoga 
was  due  in  no  small  degree  to  its  presence. 

The  first  colonel  of  the  rifle  regiment  was  William  Thomp- 
son, by  birth  an  Irishman.     He  had  been  captain  of  a  troop  of 


90       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

horse  in  the  service  of  Pennsylvania  in  the  French  war  of 
1759  -  60,  and  before  the  Revohition  resided  at  Fort  Pitt,  since 
Pittsburg.  He  was  made  a  brigadier  early  in  1776,  and,  hav- 
ing joined  General  Sullivan  in  Canada,  was  made  prisoner  at 
Trois  Rivieres.  Thompson  was  succeeded,  in  March,  1776,  by 
Edward  Hand,  his  lieutenant-colonel,  who  had  accompanied  the 
Royal  Irish  to  America  in  1774  as  surgeon's  mate,  but  who 
resigned  on  his  arrival.  He  was  afterwards  a  brigadier,  and 
fought  to  the  close  of  the  war. 

Daniel  Morgan,  who,  in  less  than  a  week  after  the  intelli- 
gence of  the  battle  of  Lexington,  enrolled  one  hundred  and 
seven  men,  with  whom  he  marched  to  Cambridge,  had  been 
a  wagoner  in  Braddock's  army  in  1755.  For  knocking 
down  a  British  lieutenant  he  had  received  five  hundred 
lashes  without  flinching.  He  seems  at  one  period  to  have 
fallen  into  'the  worst  vices  of  the  camp,  but  before  the  Revo- 
lution had  become  a  correct  member  of  society.  Washing- 
ton despatched  him  with  Arnold  to  Quebec  in  September, 
1775,  Avhere,  after  having  forced  his  way  through  the  first 
defences,  he  was  made  prisoner  while  paroling  some  captives 
that  he  himself  had  taken;  so  that  a  common  fate  befell  both 
Morgan  and  Thompson,  and  on  the  same  line  of  operations. 
Morgan,  after  his  exchange,  was  appointed  colonel  of  the  11th 
Virginia,  a  rifle-corps,  November  12,  1776.  Of  his  subse- 
quent career  we  need  not  speak. 

Chastellux  relates  that  when  some  of  Rochambeau's  troops 
were  passing  a  river  between  Williamsburg  and  Baltimore, 
where  they  were  crowded  in  a  narrow  passage,  they  were  met 
by  General  Morgan,  who,  seeing  the  wagoners  did  not  under- 
stand their  business,  stopped  and  showed  them  how  to  drive. 
Having  put  everything  in  order,  he  proceeded  quietly  on 
his  way. 

The  best  account  we  have  of  Colonel  Morgan's  appearance 
describes  him  as  "  stout  and  active,  six  feet  in  height,  not  too 
much  encumbered  with  flesh,  and  exactly  fitted  for  the  pomp 
and  toils  of  war.  The  features  of  his  face  were  strong  and 
manly,   and   his  brow  thoughtful.      His   manners   plain  and 


THE    CONTINENTAL   TRENCHES. 


91 


decorous,  neither  insiiiuating  nor  repulsive.  His  conversation 
grave,  sententious,  and  considerate,  unadorned  and  uncapti- 
vating. " 

Mount  Benedict  is  associated  with  an  event  which  has  no 
parallel,  we  believe,  in  the  history  of  our  country,  namely,  the 
destruction  of  a  religious  institution  by  a  mob.  The  ruins  of 
the  Convent  of  St.  Ursula  still  remain  an  evidence  of  what 
popular  rage,  directed  by  superstition  and  lawlessness,  has  been 
able  to  accomplish  in  a  community  of  high  average  civilization. 
These  ruins  have  for  nearly  forty  years  been  a  constant  re- 
minder of  the  signal  violation  of  that  religious  liberty  guaran- 
teed by  the  fathers  of  the  republic.  They  belong  rather  to 
1634  than  to  1834. 


THE    URSIILINK    CONVENT    IX    Rt'IN> 


It  must  be  admitted  that  the  Jesuit  fathers  who  planted  the 
missions  of  their  order  in  every  available  spot  in  the  New 
World  possessed  an  unerring  instinct  for  choosing  fine  situa- 
tions. Wherever  their  establishments  have  been  reared  civili- 
zation has  followed,  until  towns  and  cities  have  grown  up  and 


92       HISTORIC   FIELDS    AND   MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

environed  their  primitive  cliapels.  Whatever  may  be  said  of 
the  order,  it  has  left  the  finest  specimens  of  ancient  arcliitec- 
ture  existing  on  the  American  continent.  We  need  only  cite 
Quebec,  Mexico,  and  Panama  to  support  this  assertion. 

The  choice  of  Mount  Benedict,  therefore,  for  the  site  of  a 
convent  is  only  another  instance  of  the  good  judgment  of  the 
Catholics.  The  situation,  though  bleak  in  winter,  commands  a 
superb  view  of  the  meadows  through  which  the  Mystic  winds, 
and  of  the  towns  which  extend  themselves  along  the  opposite 
shores.  Beyond  these  are  seen  the  gray,  rocky  ridges,  resem- 
bling in  their  undulations  some  huge  monster  of  antiquity, 
wliich,  coming  from  the  Merrimack,  form  the  most  remarkable 
valley  in  Eastern  Massachusetts,  and  through  which,  in  the  dim 
distance  of  bygone  ages,  the  river  may  have  found  its  outlet  to 
the  sea.  Perched  on  their  rugged  sides  appear  the  cottages 
and  villas  of  a  population  half  city,  half  rural,  but  altogether 
distinctive  in  the  well-kept,  thrifty  appearance  of  their  homes. 

On  the  night  of  the  11th  of  August,  1834,  the  convent  and 
outbuildings  were  destroyed  by  incendiary  hands.  The  flames 
raged  without  any  attempt  to  subdue  them,  until  everything 
combustible  was  consumed,  the  bare  walls  oidy  being  left 
standing.  The  firemen  from  the  neighboring  towns  were  pres- 
ent with  their  engines,  but  remained  either  passive  spectators 
or  actors  in  the  scenes  that  ensued.  A  feeble  eff'ort  was  made  by 
the  local  authorities  to  disperse  the  mob,  —  an  effort  calculated 
only  to  excite  contempt,  unsupported  as  it  was  by  any  show 
of  force  to  sustain  it.  The  afiair  had  been  planned,  and  the 
concerted  signal  expected. 

For  some  time  pre\4ous  to  the  final  catastrophe  rumors  had 
prevailed  that  Mary  St.  John  Harrison,  an  inmate  of  the  con- 
vent and  a  candidate  for  the  veil,  had  either  been  abducted  or 
secreted  where  she  could  not  be  found  by  her  friends.  As  this 
belief  obtained  currency,  an  excitement,  impossible  now  to 
imagine,  pervaded  the  community.  Threats  were  openly  made 
to  burn  the  convent,  but  passed  unheeded.  Printed  placards 
were  posted  in  Charlestown,  announcing  that  on  such  a  night 
the  convent  would  be  burned,  but  even  this  did  not  arouse  the 


THE    CONTINENTAL   TRENCHES.  93 

authorities  to  action.  At  about  ten  o'clock  on  the  night  in 
question  a  mob,  variously  estimated  at  from  four  to  ten  thou- 
sand persons,  assembled  within  and  around  the  convent 
grounds.  A  bonfire  was  lighted  as  a  signal  to  those  who  were 
apprised  of  what  was  about  to  take  place.  The  Superior  of  the 
convent,  Mrs.  Mofiatt,  with  the  other  inmates,  were  notified  to 
depart  from  the  doomed  building.  There  were  a  dozen  nuns, 
and  more  than  fifty  scholars,  some  of  whom  were  Protestants, 
and  many  of  a  tender  age.  The  announcement  filled  all  with 
alarm,  and  several  swooned  with  terror.  The  unfortunate 
females  were  at  length  removed  to  a  place  of  security,  and  the 
work  of  destruction  began  and  concluded  without  hindrance. 
The  mob  did  not  even  respect  the  tomb  belonging  to  the  con- 
vent, but  entered  and  violated  this  sanctuary  of  the  dead. 

A  general  burst  of  indignation  followed  this  dastardly  out- 
rage. Eeprisals  from  the  Catholics  were  looked  for,  and  it  was 
many  years  before  the  bad  blood  created  by  the  event  subsided. 
The  better  feeling  of  the  community  was  aroused ;  and  few 
meetings  in  Old  Faneuil  Hall  have  given  more  emphatic  utter- 
ance to  its  voice  than  that  called  at  this  time  by  Mayor  Lyman, 
and  addressed  by  Harrison  Gray  Otis,  Josiah  Quincy,  Jr.,  and 
others.  Measures  of  security  were  adopted,  and  once  more,  in 
the  language  of  the  wise  old  saw,  "  the  stable  door  was  shut 
after  the  steed  had  escaped." 

The  Catholics  showed  remarkable  forbearance.  On  the  day 
follomng  the  conflagration  their  bishop,  Fenwick,  contributed 
by  his  judicious  conduct  to  allay  the  exasperation  of  his  flock  ; 
and  even  Father  Taylor,  the  old,  earnest  pastor  of  the  seamen, 
was  listened  to  with  respectful  attention  by  a  large  assemblage 
of  Irish  Catholics,  who  had  gathered  in  the  immediate  neigh- 
borhood of  their  church,  in  Franklin  Street,  Boston,  on  the 
same  occasion. 

In  reverting  to  the  conduct  of  the  firemen,  it  should  be  re- 
membered that  Colonel  Thomas  C.  Amory,  then  chief  engineer 
of  the  Boston  Fire  Department,  repaired  to  the  convent  at  the 
first  alarm,  and  did  all  in  his  poM^er  to  bring  the  firemen  to 
their  duty.     Finding  this  a  hopeless  task,  he  then  visited  the 


94       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

bishop,  and  advised  him  to  take  such  precautions  as  the  danger- 
ous temper  of  the  mob  seemed  to  demand. 

Many  arrests  were  made,  and  some  of  the  rioters  were  con- 
victed and  punished.  Chief  Justice  Shaw  was  then  on  the 
bench,  and  John  Davis  governor  of  the  State.  Both  exerted 
themselves  to  bring  the  offenders  to  justice,  and  to  vindicate 
the  name  of  the  old  Commonwealth  from  reproach. 

The  form  of  the  main  building  of  the  convent,  which  faced 
southeast,  was  a  parallelogram  of  about  thirty-three  paces  long 
by  ten  in  breadth  ;  what  appear  to  have  been  two  wings  joined 
it  on  the  west  side.  Tlfe  buildings  were  partly  of  brick  and 
partly  of  the  blue  stone  found  abundantly  in  the  neighboring 
quarries  ;  the  principal  edifice  being  of  three  stories,  with  a 
pitched  roof,  and  having  entrances  both  in  the  east  and  west 
fronts.  The  grounds,  which  were  very  extensive,  and  em- 
braced most  of  the  hill,  were  terraced  down  to  the  highway  and 
adorned  with  shrubbery.  A  fine  orchard  of  several  acres,  in 
the  midst  of  which  the  buildings  stood,  extended  on  the  west 
quite  to  the  limits  of  the  enclosure,  where,  until  recently,  were 
visible  the  remains  of  the  convent  tomb.  The  hill  is  now  being 
levelled  with  a  rapidity  that  is  fast  obliterating  every  vestige 
of  the  ruins,  the  orchard,  and  the  few  elms  the  fire  had  spared. 
Mount  Benedict  already  belongs  to  the  past,  whatever  regret 
we  may  feel  at  the  disappearance  of  so  beautiful  an  eminence. 

The  convent  was  opened  on  the  17th  of  July,  1826.  It  is 
but  little  known  that  there  was  a  similar  establishment  in 
Boston,  contiguous  to  the  Cathedral  in  Franklin  Street,  though 
no  incident  drew  the  popular  attention  to  it.  The  information 
upon  which  the  mob  acted  in  the  sack  of  the  Mount  Benedict 
institution  proved  wholly  groundless. 

When  we  last  visited  the  spot  the  scene  was  one  of  utter 
loneliness.  Year  by  year  the  walls  have  been  crumbling  away, 
until  the  elements  are  fast  completing  what  the  fire  spared. 
The  snow  enshrouded  the  heaps  of  debris  and  the  jagged  out- 
lines of  the  walls  with  a  robe  as  spotless  as  that  of  St.  Ursula 
herself.  For  nearly  forty  years  these  blackened  memorials  of  the 
little  community  of  St.  Angela  have  been  visible  to  thousands 


THE  CONTINENTAL  TKENCHES.  95 

journeying  to  and  from  the  neighboring  city.  The  lesson  has 
been  sharj),  but  effectual.  AVhoever  should  now  raise  the  torch 
against  such  an  establishment  would  be  deemed  a  madman. 

Our  interest  is  awakened  at  the  mention  of  Ten  Hills  Farm 
in  connection  with  the  plantation  of  Governor  AVinthrop,  who 
gave  it  the  name  by  which  it  is  still  known,  from  the  ten  little 
elevations  which  crowned  its  uneven  surface,  and  of  which  the 
greater  number  remain  visible  to  this  day. 

The  grant  to  AVinthrop  was  made  September  6,  1631,  of  six 
hundred  acres  of  land  "  near  liis  house  at  Mistick,"  from  which 
it  would  appear  that  the  governor  already  had  a  house  built 
there  which  was  probably  occupied  by  his  servants.  We  are 
now  speaking  of  a  time  nearly  coincident  with  the  settlement 
of  Boston,  when  no  other  craft  than  the  Indian  canoe  had  ever 
cleft  the  waters  of  the  Mystic,  and  when  wild  beasts  roamed 
the  neighboring  forests. 

Governor  Winthrop  tells  his  own  story  of  what  he,  the 
original  white  inhabitant  of  Ten  Hills,  experienced  there  in 
1631  :  — 

"  The  governour,  being  at  his  farm  house  at  ^Mistick,  walked  out 
after  supper,  and  took  a  piece  in  his  hand,  supposing  he  might  see  a 
wolf,  (for  they  came  daily  about  the  house,  and  killed  swine  and 
calves,  etc. ;)  and  being  about  half  a  mile  off,  it  grew  suddenly  dark, 
so  as,  in  coming  home,  he  mistook  his  path,  and  went  til  he  came 
to  a  little  house  of  Sagamore  John,  which  stood  empty.  There  he 
stayed,  and  having  a  piece  of  match  in  his  pocket,  (for  he  always 
carried  about  him  match  and  a  compass,  and  in  summer  time  snake- 
weed,) he  made  a  good  fire  near  the  house,  and  lay  do^m  upon  some 
old  mats  which  he  found  there,  and  so  spent  the  night,  sometimes 
walking  by  the  fire,  sometimes  singing  psalms,  and  sometimes  getting 
wood,  but  could  not  sleep.  It  was  (through  God's  mercy)  a  warm 
night;  but  a  little  before  day  it  began  to  rain,  and  having  no  cloak, 
he  made  shift  by  a  long  pole  to  climb  up  into  the  house.  In  the 
morning  there  came  thither  an  Indian  scpiaw,  but,  perceiving  her 
before  she  had  opened  the  door,  he  barred  her  out;  yet  she  stayed 
there  a  great  while  essaying  to  get  in,  and  at  last  she  went  away, 
and  he  returned  safe  home,  his  servants  having  been  much  perplexed 
for  him,  and  having  walked  about,  and  shot  off  pieces,  and  hallooed 
in  the  night,  but  he  heard  them  not." 


96       HISTOEIC    FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

Savage  supposes  that  Ten  Hills  was  the  governor's  summer 
residence  for  the  first  two  or  three  years ;  Boston  being,  after 
the  removal  of  his  house  there,  his  constant  home.  It  has  also 
been  usually  considered  as  the  place  where  Winthrop  built  his 
little  bark,  the  Blessing  of  the  Bay,  the  first  English  keel 
launched  in  the  jurisdiction  of  Massachusetts  Colony.  This 
event  occurred  on  the  -tth  of  July,  1631,  and  in  October  the 
Blessing  spread  her  canvas  and  bore  away  on  a  voyage  to 
the  eastward. 

The  farm  of  Ten  Hills  was  owned  at  the  time  of  the  Revolu- 
tion by  Robert  Temple,  a  royalist ;  and  the  house  he  occupied 
is  now  standing  there  on  the  supposed  site  of  Governor  Win- 
throp's.  The  highest  of  the  ten  eminences  lies  between  the 
house  and  the  river,  warding  off  the  bleak  northwest  winds. 

The  mansion-house  has  a  spacious  hall,  and  a  generous  provis- 
ion of  large  square  rooms.  As  you  ascend  the  stairs,  in  front 
of  you,  at  the  first  landing,  is  a  glass  door,  opening  into  a  snug 
little  apartment  Avhich  overlooks  the  river.  This  must  have 
been  a  favorite  resort  of  the  family.  The  wainscoting  and  other 
wood-work  is  in  good  condition,  if  a  general  filthiness  be  ex- 
cepted, inseparable  from  the  occupancy  of  the  house  by  numer- 
ous families  of  the  laborers  in  tlie  neighboring  brickyards.  The 
high  ground  on  wdiich  the  house  stands  is  being  digged  away, 
and  tliis  old  dwelling  will  probably  soon  disappear. 

Robert  Temple  of  Ten  Hills  was  an  elder  brother  of  Sir  John 
Temple,  Bart.,  the  first  Consul-General  from  England  to  the 
United  States.  His  eldest  daughter  became  Lady  DufFerin. 
Mr.  Temple  sailed  for  England  as  early  as  May,  1775  ;  but,  the 
vessel  being  obliged  to  put  into  Plymouth,  Massachusetts,  he 
was  detained  and  sent  to  Cambridge  camp.  ^Ir.  Temple's 
family  continued  to  reside  in  the  mansion  at  Ten  Hills  after 
his  attempted  departure,  under  the  protection  of  General  Ward. 
The  Baronet  married  a  daughter  of  Governor  Bowdoin,  while 
his  brother's  wife  was  a  daughter  of  Governor  Shirley. 

Previous  to  his  coming  to  Ten  Hills,  Robert  Temple  had 
resided  on  IN'oddle's  Island,  in  the  elegant  mansion  there  after- 
wards occupied  by  Henry  Howell  Williams.     Although  himself 


THE    CONTINENTAL   TRENCHES.  97 

a  tenant,  the  Temples  had  in  times  past  owned  the  island.  Sir 
Thomas,  who  was  proprietor  in  1667,  had  been  formerly  Gov- 
ernor of  Nova  Scotia.  It  is  related  of  him,  that  once,  when  on 
a  visit  to  England,  he  was  presented  to  Charles  II.,  who  com- 
plained to  him  that  the  colonists  had  usurped  his  prerogative 
of  coining  money.  Sir  Thomas  replied,  that  they  thought  it 
no  crime  to  coin  money  for  their  own  use,  and  presented  his 
Majesty  some  of  Master  Hull's  pieces,  on  which  was  a  tree. 
The  king  inquiring  what  tree  that  was,  the  courtier  answered, 
"  The  royal  oak  which  protected  your  Majesty's  life,"  —  a  reply 
which  charmed  the  king  and  caused  him  to  look  with  more 
favor  on  the  offending  colony.  If  one  of  Master  Hull's  shillings 
be  examined,  we  are  not  greatly  surprised  that  his  Majesty  so 
readily  believed  the  pine  to  be  an  oak. 

Ten  HiUs  was  the  landing-place  of  Gage's  night  expedition 
to  seize  the  powder  in  the  province  magazine,  in  September, 
1774.  The  next  day  the  uprising  in  Middlesex  took  place. 
And  on  Saturday,  the  3d,  the  solcliers  were  harnessed  to  four 
field-pieces,  which  they  dragged  to  Boston  Neck,  and  placed  in 
battery  there.  The  Lively  frigate,  of  twenty  guns,  came  to  her 
moorings  in  the  ferry -way  between  Boston  and  Charlestown, 
and  the  avenues  to  the  doomed  town  were  shut  up  as  effectually 
by  land  as  they  had  been  by  water. 

The  vicinity  of  Ten  Hills  was  that  chosen  by  Mike  Martin 
for  the  robbery  of  Major  Bray.  It  was  near  where  the  old 
lane  leading  to  the  Temple  farm-house,  and  now  known  as 
Temple  Street,  enters  the  turnpike,  that  the  robber  overtook 
the  chaise  of  his  victim.  After  his  condemiiation,  Martin 
related,  with  apparent  gusto,  that  the  pistol  which  he  presented 
at  the  Major's  head  was  neither  loaded  nor  cocked,  but  that 
the  latter  was  terribly  frightened  and  trembled  like  a  leaf. 
Mrs.  Bray  tried  to  conceal  her  watch,  but  was  assured  by  the 
highwayman  that  he  did  not  rob  ladies.  Even  now  the  place 
seems  lonesome,  and  is  not  the  one  we  should  select  for  an 
evening  promenade. 

On  a  little  promontory  which  overlooks  the  Mystic  the 
remains  of  a  redoubt  erected  by  Sullivan  are  still  distinct.     At 

5  G 


98       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

this  point  the  river  makes  a  westerly  bend,  so  that  a  hostile 
flotilla  must  approach  for  some  distance  in  the  teeth  of  a  raking 
fire  from  this  redoubt.  This  was  fully  proved  when  the  enemy 
brought  their  floating  batteries  within  range  to  attack  the  work- 
ing party  on  Ploughed  Hill  and  enfilade  the  road.  A  nine- 
pounder  mounted  in  this  redoubt  sunk  one  of  the  enemy's  bat- 
teries and  disabled  the  other,  while  an  armed  vessel  which 
accompanied  them  had  her  foresail  shot  away,  and  was 
obliged  to  sheer  off.  The  next  day  (Monday,  September  28) 
the  enemy  sent  a  man-of-war  into  Mystic  River,  drew  some  of 
their  forces  over  from  Boston  to  Charlestown,  where  they 
formed  a  heavy  column  of  attack,  and  seemed  prepared  to  make 
a  bold  push,  —  as  was  fully  expected  in  the  American  camp,  — 
but  Bunker  Hill  was  too  recent  in  their  memories,  and  Ploughed 
Hill  had  been  made  much  stronger  than  the  position  they  had 
carried  with  so  much  loss  of  life  on  the  1 7th  of  June  ;  the 
combat  was  declined. 

Leaving  the  redoubt,  a  Imndred  yards  higher  up  the  hill  we 
find  traces  of  another  work,  with  two  of  the  angles  quite  clearly 
defined.  The  little  battery  first  mentioned  is  as  well  preserved 
as  any  of  the  intrenchments  made  by  the  left  wing  of  the 
American  army.  It  is  but  a  slight  mound  of  earth,  but  ah, 
how  full  of  glorious  memories  ! 

General  Sullivan,  on  first  coming  to  camp,  took  up  his  quar- 
ters at  Medford,  where  Stark  and  his  New  Hampshire  men 
were  already  assembled.  In  a  letter  to  the  Committee  of 
Safety,  the  general  lamented  extremely  that  the  New  Hamp- 
shire forces  were  without  a  chaplain,  and  were  obliged  to  attend 
prayers  with  the  Rhode-Islanders  on  Prospect  Hill.  We  are 
ignorant  whether  the  men  of  New  Hampshire  required  more 
praying  for  than  the  men  of  Rhode  Island,  but  we  fully  recog- 
nize the  fact  that  in  those  days  an  army  chaplain  was  not  a 
mere  ornamental  appendage,  dangling  at  the  queue  of  the  staff'. 
General  SuUivan  was  absent  from  camp  in  November,  1775, 
having  been  sent  to  Portsmouth  on  account  of  the  alarm  occa- 
sioned by  the  burning  of  Falmouth.  He  took  with  him  some 
artillery  officers  and  a  company  of  the  rifle  regiment.     About 


THE   CONTINENTAL   TRENCHES.  99 

the  same  time  General  Lee  went  to  Rhode  Island  on  a  similar 
mission. 

Samuel  Jaques,  a  later  resident  of  Ten  Hills  Farm,  is  worthy 
of  remembrance  as  a  distinguished  agriculturist.  Born  in  1776, 
a  few  weeks  after  the  declaration  of  formal  separation  from 
England,  he  died  in  1859,  just  at  the  dawn  of  a  scarcely  less 
momentous  convulsion,  thus  spanning  with  his  own  life  the 
greatest  epochs  of  our  history. 

Colonel  Jaques  was  in  habits  and  manners  the  type  of  the 
English  country  gentleman.  When  a  resident  of  Charlestown, 
he  had,  like  Cradock's  men  at  Mystic  Side  in  1632,  impaled  a 
deer-park.  He  also  kept  his  hounds,  and  often  wakened  the 
echoes  of  the  neighboring  hills  with  the  note  of  his  bugle  or  the 
cry  of  his  pack,  bringing  the  drowsy  slumberer  from  his  bed  by 
sounds  so  unwonted.  We  trust  no  incredulous  reader  will  be 
startled  at  the  assertion  that  the  hills  of  Somerville  have  re- 
sounded with  the  fox-hunter's  "  tally-ho  !  " 

Colonel  Jaques,  who  acquired  liis  title  by  long  service  in  the 
militia,  was  engaged  for  a  time  during  the  hostilities  of  1812 
in  the  defence  of  the  shores  of  the  bay,  being  stationed  at 
Chelsea  in  command  of  a  small  detachment.  He  was  twenty- 
eight  years  a  resident  of  the  old  Temple  Manor,  and  discharged 
the  duties  of  hospitality  in  a  manner  that  did  no  discredit  to 
the  ancient  proprietor.  The  farm  was  also  occupied  at  one  time 
by  Elias  Hasket  Derby,  who  stocked  it  with  improved  breeds 
of  sheep. 

The  place  has  now  been  much  disfigured  with  excavations,  to 
procure  the  clay,  which  is  excellent  for  brickmaking,  and  that 
branch  of  industry  has  been  extensively  carried  on  for  many 
years  by  the  sons  of  Colonel  Jaques.  In  time  a  large  portion 
of  the  soil  has  been  removed,  and  is,  or  Avas,  standing  in  many 
a  noble  edifice  in  the  neighboring  city,  —  a  gradual  but  sure 
process  of  annexation.  The  vein  of  clay,  which  is  traced  from 
Watertown  to  Lynn,  underlies  Ten  Hills  Farm. 

Brickmaking  was  very  early  pursued  by  the  settlers,  one, 
at  least,  of  the  houses  they  built  in  the  first  decade  of  the  set- 
tlement being  still  in  existence.     The  size  of  bricks  was  regu- 


100       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

lated  by  Charles  1.,  hence  the  name  statute-bricks.  The  very- 
first  vessels  which  arrived  at  Salem  had  bricks  stowed  under 
their  hatches,  which  were  doubtless  used  in  the  erection  of 
some  of  the  big  chimney-stacks  that  still  exist  there,  their  in- 
destructible materials  rendering  them  as  useful  to-day  as  when 
they  were  originally  burnt.  In  1745  all  the  bricks  used  in 
reconstructing  the  works  at  Louisburg  and  Annapolis  Royal 
were  shipped  from  Boston  to  General  Amherst.  The  recent 
and  disastrous  examples  of  Portland,  Chicago,  and  Boston  have 
only  confirmed  the  experience  that  bricks  are  more  durable 
tlian  stone.  The  sun-dried  bricks  of  Nineveh  and  Babylon  are 
still  in  existence,  while  the  Roman  baths  of  Caracalla  and  Titus 
have  withstood  the  action  of  the  elements  far  better  than  the 
stone  of  the  Coliseum  or  the  marble  of  the  Forum. 

"Winter  Hill  was  fortified  immediately  after  the  battle  of 
Bunker  Hill,  and  garrisoned  by  the  commands  of  Poor,  Stark, 
Reed,  Mansfield,  and  Doolittle.  The  policy  of  placing  the  sol- 
diers of  the  same  colony  together  was  at  first  observed,  and 
while  Greene  on  Prospect  Hill  had  his  Rhode-Islanders,  Sulli- 
van on  Winter  Hill  quartered  in  the  midst  of  the  men  of  New 
Hampshire.  Webb's  and  Hutchinson's  regiments  were  under 
Sullivan's  orders  in  November,  1775, 

This,  being  the  extreme  left  of  the  American  interior  line  of 
defence,  was  fortified  with  great  assiduity,  especially  as  it 
covered  the  land  approach  to  the  town  of  Medford,  and,  to 
some  extent,  the  navigation  of  the  Mystic.  The  principal  work 
was  thrown  up  directly  across  the  road  leading  over  the  hill, 
now  Broadway,  at  the  point  where  the  Medford  road  diverges ; 
and,  except  at  the  northwest  angle,  where  it  was  entered  by  the 
last-named  highway,  was  enclosed  on  all  sides.  It  was  in  form 
an  irregular  pentagon,  with  bastions  and  deep  fosse.  A  breast- 
work conforming  with  the  present  direction  of  Central  Street 
joined  the  southwest  angle.  This  plan  of  redoubt  and  breast- 
work was  the  almost  stereotyped  form  of  the  American  works. 
A  hundred  yards  in  advance  of  the  fort  were  outworks,  in 
which  guards  were  nightly  posted.  When  Central  Street  was 
being  made,  the  remains  of  the  intrenchment  were  exposed,  and 


THE  CONTINENTAL  TRENCHES.  101 

are  also  remembered  by  some  of  the  older  people  in  the  vacant 
land  of  Mr.  Byani  on  the  north  side  of  the  road. 

Let  us  take  a  view  of  Sullivan's  camp  and  fortress  as  it  was 
in  November,  1775.  At  eight  in  the  morning  the  drummers 
and  lifers  of  all  the  regiments  on  the  hill  assemble  in  the 
citadel  and  beat  the  troop.  The  martial  sounds  are  taken  up 
on  Prospect  Hill,  and  passed  on  to  Heath  at  Cambridge.  The 
refrain  echoes  along  the  line  until  it  reaches  the  veteran  Thomas 
at  Roxbury,  where  it  is  wafted  across  the  waters  of  the  bay  to 
the  ears  of  the  king's  sentinel  on  the  ramparts  of  the  castle. 

The  details  for  pickets  and  guards  are  now  paraded  and 
inspected  by  the  brave  Alexander  Scammell,  who  has  followed 
his  general  and  friend  from  the  law-office  at  Exeter  to  be  his 
major  of  brigade  in  the  Continental  service.  The  camp  is  now 
fully  astir,  and  the  detachments  for  fatigue  are  in  motion. 
Some  march  to  the  neighboring  forests,  where  they  are  em- 
ployed in  cutting  wood  for  fuel  and  material  for  fascines. 
Soon  the  frosty  air  is  vocal  with  the  blows  of  their  axes. 
Others  are  employed  in  mending  the  roads,  strengthening  the 
works,  or  deepening  the  ditches  ;  still  others  are  busy  erecting 
barracks  for  the  approaching  winter.  Bustle  and  preparation 
have  invaded  the  former  solitude  of  the  green  slopes,  and  the 
beautifid  verdure  is  furrowed  with  yawning  trenches. 

There  never  were  such  men  for  building  earthworks  as  the 
Americans.  Fort  after  fort  rose  before  the  astonished  vision  of 
the  Britons,  like  the  fabled  palace  of  Aladdin.  Xow  Breed's 
Hill,  then  Lechmere's  Point,  and  finally  Dorchester  Heights, 
showed  what  workers  those  Yankees  were.  Gage  was  aston- 
ished, Howe  petrified  ;   both  were  outgeneralled  before  Boston. 

In  fine  weather  the  men  off  duty  engage  in  a  thousand 
occupations  or  amusements.  Some  read,  others  write,  while 
not  a  few  are  cleaning  their  trusty  firelocks  or  elaborately  carv- 
ing their  powder-horns,  to  be  lianded  down  as  heirlooms  to 
their  children's  children. 

Until  barracks  were  built,  officers  and  men  made  for  them- 
selves huts,  after  the  manner  described  by  j\Ir.  Emerson,  the 
general  being  acc^ommodated  in  an  old  house  on  the  hill.     The 


102       HISTORIC  FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF  MIDDLESEX. 

officers  exchanged  visits,  attended  garrison  courts -martial,  — 
which  might  be  held  in  Nixon's  hut  or  Doolittle's  barracks,  — 
or  rambled  through  the  adjacent  lines.  Card-playing,  the 
soldiers'  favorite  pastime,  was  strongly  discountenanced  by  the 
commander-in-chief ;  but  we  believe  we  should  only  have  to  lift 
the  corner  of  the  old  sail  that  served  as  a  door  to  the  huts  to 
see  group  after  group,  rebels  that  they  were,  paying  court  to 
king  and  queen.  At  night  a  bit  of  tallow  candle,  stuck  in  the 
socket  of  a  bayonet,  serves  to  illuminate  the  soldier's  cabin  and 
prolong  his  pleasures  till  the  drums  at  tattoo  admonish  him  that 
the  day  is  done. 

Within  the  lines  a  regiment  went  on  duty  every  night.  The 
tour  came  round  often  ;  the  service  Avas  hard.  A  company  was 
stationed  at  Medford  to  prevent  the  men  straggling  from  camp  ; 
and  not  a  few  officers,  seduced  by  the  comforts  of  a  clean  bed 
or  the  witchery  of  a  pair  of  bright  eyes,  were  in  the  habit  of 
absenting  themselves  from  camp  to  sleep  at  Mystic,  as  Medford 
was  then  called. 

There  was  in  each  brigade  a  field-officer  of  the  day.  When 
a  colonel  mounted  guard  he  was  attended  by  his  own  surgeon 
and  adjutant.  He  was  in  the  saddle  from  troop  to  retreat, 
catching,  perhaps,  a  mouthful  at  the  picket,  or  sharing  pot-luck 
with  some  comrade  while  on  his  rounds.  The  advanced  lines 
must  be  visited  twice  a  day,  and  if  there  should  be  an  alarm, 
the  officer  of  the  day  must  be  at  the  threatened  point.  The 
post  at  Ten  Hills,  the  valley  redoubts,  the  detachments  at 
Mystic  and  the  Powder  House,  were  comprised  within  his 
charge.  He  must  not  sleep  or  remove  his  arms  during  his  tour. 
Mrs.  John  Adams,  in  her  letters,  has  left  some  admirable 
portraits  of  the  distinguished  characters  of  the  Revolutionary 
army.     Speaking  of  General  Sullivan,  she  says  :  — 

"  I  drank  coffee  one  day  with  General  Sullivan  upon  Winter  Hill. 
He  appears  to  be  a  man  of  sense  and  spirit.  His  countenance  de- 
notes him  of  a  warm  constitution,  not  to  be  very  suddenly  moved, 
but,  when  once  roused,  not  very  easily  lulled;  easy  and  social;  well 
calculated  for  a  military  station,  as  he  seems  to  be  possessed  of  those 
popular  qualities  necessary  to  attach  men  to  him." 


THE   CONTINENTAL   TRENCHES.  103 

A  London  paper  said,  in  1777:  "General  Sullivan,  taken 
prisoner  by  the  king's  troops,  was  an  attorney,  and  only  laid 
down  the  pen  for  the  sword  about  eight  months  ago,  thougli  now 
a  general."  He  was  found  by  the  Hessians  after  the  disastrous 
battle  of  Long  Island,  secreted  in  a  cornfield ;  was  searched, 
and  General  Washington's  orders  taken  from  him.  Amonn; 
the  ridiculous  stories  with  which  the  foreign  officers  regaled 
their  home  correspondents,  the  Hessian,  Heeringen,  in  de- 
scribing this  affair,  says  :  "John  Sidlivan  is  a  lawyer,  but 
before  has  been  a  footman;  he  is,  however,  a  man  of  genius, 
whom  the  rebels  will  very  mucli  miss."  In  the  same  letter 
Lord  Stirling,  who  was  also  made  prisoner,  is  spoken  of  as  an 
"  echappe  de  famille,  who  is  as  much  like  Lord  Granby  as  one 
egg  is  like  another."  General  Putnam,  says  the  same  authority, 
is  a  butcher  by  trade.  This  battle  of  Long  Island  was  where 
the  Hessians  became  so  terrible  to  their  adversaries.  They  re- 
peatedly halted  under  a  heavy  fire  to  dress  their  lines  and 
advance  with  Old-World  precision.  Their  officers  took  care  to 
tell  them  the  rebels  would  give  no  quarter,  consequently  they 
put  to  death  all  who  fell  into  their  hands.  Some  of  the 
Americans  were  found  after  the  action  jiinned  to  trees  with 
bayonets.  At  Trenton  these  bugbears  were  stripped  of  their 
lions'  skins. 

General  Sullivan  was  rather  short  in  stature,  but  well-made 
and  active.  His  complexion  was  dark,  his  nose  prominent,  his 
eye  black  and  piercing.  His  countenance,  as  a  whole,  M^as  har- 
monious and  agreeable. 

Scammell  had  been  a  schoolmaster  and  a  surveyor  before  he 
became  Sullivan's  confidential  clerk.  In  1770  he  was  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Old  Colony  Club,  the  first  society  in  New  England 
to  commemorate  publicly  the  landing  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers. 
He  stood  six  feet  two  inches, — just  the  height  of  the  com- 
mander-in-chief, —  and  fought  on  the  hardest  fields  of  the 
Eevolution.  Just  as  final  victory  was  about  to  crown  the 
eftbrts  of  the  Americans,  Scammell  fell  at  Yorktown,  a  victim 
to  the  ignorance  or  brutality  of  a  Hessian  vidette.  When  this 
unlucky  event  occurred  he  was  in  command  of  a  picked  corps 
of  light  infentry. 


104      HISTORIC   FIELDS  AND   MANSIONS   OF  MIDDLESEX. 

There  are  two  actors  in  the  same  great  drama  of  which  we  are 
endeavoring  to  rearrange  the  scenes,  whose  acquaintance  prob- 
ably begun  here,  and  whose  fates  long  after  became  interwoven. 
These  two  were  James  Wilkinson  and  Aaron  Burr.  Both  joined 
the  army  at  Cambridge  as  volunteers  in  1775.  Washington 
gave  the  former,  who  first  united  himself  with  Thompson's  rifle- 
corps,  a  captaincy  in  Eeed's  regiment.  At  the  time  of  this 
appointment  he  was  a  member  of  General  Greene's  military 
family  on  Prospect  Hill,  and  did  not,  therefore,  join  his  regi- 
ment until  he  reached  Xew  York.  Wilkinson  took  part  in  the 
possession  of  Cobble  Hill,  Lechmere's  Point,  and  Dorchester 
Heights,  and  has  recorded  his  opinion  that  Howe  might  have 
forced  AYashington's  lines  at  almost  any  time  prior  to  January, 
1776. 

As  is  well  known,  Wilkinson  became  Gates's  adjutant-gen- 
eral in  the  campaign  against  Burgoyne,  and  was  the  bearer  of 
the  official  despatches  of  the  surrender  to  Congress.  He  was 
implicated  in  the  Conway  cabal,  but  became  estranged  from 
Gates,  and  a  challenge  passed  between  them.  Wilkinson  says 
that  Gates  came  to  him  at  the  last  moment  with  an  apology, 
and  that  the  duel  did  not  take  place,  but  it  was  currently  re- 
ported in  the  army  to  the  contrary.  A  general  officer,  writing 
from  AYhite  Plains,  September,  1778,  says:  "General  (xates 
fought  a  duel  with.  Mr.  Wilkinson.  General  Gates's  pistols 
would  not  give  fire,  but  flashed  twice.  Wilkinson's  gave  fire, 
but  the  balls  did  not  take  effect."  "  Wilky,"  as  he  was  called 
in  the  army,  was  elegant  in  person  and  manners. 

Burr  and  Matthias  ( )gden  were  recommended  to  Sullivan  by 
Gates  in  November,  1775,  for  positions,  in  reward  for  past  ser- 
vices. Both  accompanied  Arnold  to  Quebec.  Colonel  Burr's 
eventful  career  is  familiar.  His  eye  was  remarkably  piercing 
and  brilliant.  With  talents  equal  to  any  position,  he  seems  to 
have  been  formed  by  nature  for  a  conspirator.  The  courtliness 
of  his  manner  and  address  gave  him  a  fatal  ascendency  over 
both  sexes,  of  which  he  did  not  scruple  to  avail  himself  The 
death  of  Hamilton  and  the  ruin  of  Blennerhassett  painfully 
illustrate  the  career  of  Aaron  Burr. 


THE  CONTINENTAL  TRENCHES.  105 

It  is  not  a  little  curious  that  Arnold,  Burr,  and  Silas  Deane, 
who,  it  is  believed,  was  more  sinned  against  than  sinning, 
were  from  the  same  State.  It  is  also  a  coincidence  that  the 
two  former  in  their  young,  chivalric  days  should  have  fallen  in 
love  with  two  young  ladies  of  the  Xew  England  capital,  both 
celebrated  for  their  beauty.  Arnold  lost  his  heart  to  the 
^'  heavenly  Miss  Deblois,"  and  laid  at  her  feet  the  spoils  of  rich 
stuffs  which  he  had  ignobly  plundered  from  the  shops  of  ]\Ion- 
treal.  His  suit  was,  however,  unsuccessful ;  for  when  did  a 
Boston  girl  become  the  mother  of  traitors  ]  Burr,  on  his  part, 
improved  a  visit  which  INIadam  Hancock,  the  governor's  aunt, 
was  paying  his  uncle  at  Fairfield,  to  lay  siege  to  the  heart  of 
Dorothy  Quincy,  who  was  then  under  the  protection  of  Madam 
Hancock.  Aaron  was  then  a  handsome  young  fellow  of  very 
pretty  fortune  ;  but  the  dowager,  who  was  apprehensive  that  he 
might  defeat  her  purpose  of  uniting  Miss  Quincy  to  her  nephew, 
would  not  leave  them  a  moment  together.  If  we  are  to  believe 
report,  the  lady  was  not  insensible  to  the  insinuating  manners 
of  young  Burr. 

John  Vanderlyn,  the  painter,  owed  his  rescue  from  the  ob- 
scurity of  a  village  blacksmith's  shop  to  the  acuteness  and 
patronage  of  Colonel  Burr.  The  latter,  while  journeying  in  the 
interior  of  ^ew  York,  was  much  struck  by  a  little  pen-and-ink 
dra^ving  that  hung  over  the  hreplace  in  the  bar-room  of  a 
tavern.  The  lad  was  sent  for,  and,  on  parting.  Colonel  Burr 
said  to  him  :  "  Put  a  shirt  in  your  pocket,  come  to  Xew  York, 
and  inquire  for  Aaron  Burr ;  he  will  take  care  of  you."  The 
boy  followed  his  patron,  who  sent  him  to  Paris,  where  he 
achieved  a  reputation  that  justified  the  sagacity  of  the  then 
Vice-President  of  the  United  States. 

Among  the  officers  who  served  on  Winter  Hill,  and  wlio 
subsequently  acquired  fame,  were  Henry  Dearborn,  John  Brooks, 
and  Joseph  CiUey.  Dearborn  was  a  captain  in  Stark's  regi- 
ment, Brooks  major  of  Bridges',  and  Cilley  of  Poor's  regiment. 
Dearborn  and  Brooks  became  very  distinguished  in  military  and 
civil  life  :  both  testified  their  affection  for  Alexander  Scammell 
by  naming  a  son  for  that  lamented  officer ;  both  fought  with 
conspicuous  valor  at  Saratoga. 


106      HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 


During  the  battle  of  Monmouth  a  corps  commanded  by 
Colonel  Dearborn  acquitted  themselves  Avith  such  undaunted 
bravery  that  they  attracted  particular  notice.  A  Southern 
officer  of  rank  rode  up  to  Dearborn  and  inquired  "  who  they 
were,  and  to  what  portion  of  America  that  regiment  belonged." 
The  Colonel  replied  in  this  laconic  and  soldierly  manner : 
"Full-blooded  Yankees,  by  G-d,  sir,  from  the  State  of  ]S^ew 
Hampshire."  *  The  same  anecdote  has  been  related  of  Colonel 
Cilley. 

The  Germans  of  Burgoyne's  army,  to  the  number  of  about 

nineteen  hundred,  took 
up  their  quarters  in  the 
barracks  and  huts  on 
Winter  Hill  wliich  had 
been  used  by  the  Ameri- 
cans. General  Riedesel, 
with  his  family,  were  ac- 
commodated in  a  farm- 
house, where  he  was 
obliged  to  content  him- 
self with  a  room  and  a 
garret,  with  nothing  bet- 
ter than  straw  for  a  couch. 
The  General's  biographer 
continues  the  description: 
"  The  landlord  was  very 
kind,  but  his  other  half  was  a  veritable  dragon,  doing  every- 
thing to  offend  and  annoy  her  obnoxious  guests.  But,  as  it  was 
impossible  to  find  another  place,  they  were  obliged  to  put  up 
with  everything  rather  than  be  driven  from  the  house."  After 
a  sojourn  here  of  three  weeks,  the  General  and  Madame 
Riedesel  were  furnished  with  excellent  quarters  at  Cambridge. 
Several  of  the  officers  were  allowed  to  reside  at  that  place  and 
at  Medford,  but  none  were  allowed  to  pass  into  Boston  without 
special  permission.  The  officers  and  soldiers  had  the  privilege 
of  going,  first  -a  mile,  and  eventually  three  miles,  from  their 

*  Mrs.  Warren. 


W//'/,'/V,,,„„/„, 
HESSIAN   FLAG. 


THE   CONTINENTAL   TRENCHES.  107 

barracks.  Colonel  William  Raymond  Lee  commanded  on 
Winter  Hill  at  the  time  of  the  arrival'  of  the  Hessians. 

These  mercenaries  were  employed,  it  is  said,  at  the  instiga- 
tion of  Lord  George  Germaine.  The  British  government  stipu- 
lated with  the  Landgrave  of  Hesse  to  pay  £  30  sterling  for 
every  man  that  did  not  return,  and  £  15  sterling  for  each  one 
disabled,  so  that  it  was  commonly  said,  after  a  battle  in  which 
the  Hessians  were  engaged,  that  their  loss  was  the  Landgrave's 
gain.  Similar  treaties  were  made  with  the  Duke  of  Brunswick 
and  the  Count  of  Hanau. 

We  make  the  following  extracts,  which  serve  to  convey  an 
accurate  idea  of  the  condition  of  things  on  Winter  HUl  as  they 
appeared  to  the  German  prisoners,  from  General  Riedesel's 
memoirs  :  — 

"  The  camp  of  the  prisoners  was  encircled  by  a  chain  of  outposts. 
The  officers,  who  were  permitted  to  go  somewhat  beyond  the  camp, 
were  obliged  to  promise  in  writing,  on  their  word  of  honor,  to  go  no 
farther  beyond  it  than  a  mile  and  a  half  Within  this  space  are  the 
villages  Cambridge,  Mystic,  or  Medford,  and  a  part  of  Charlestown. 
In  these  places  the  generals  and  brigadiers  could  select  lodgings,  for 
which,  of  course,  they  had  to  pay  dearly.  After  a  while  this  per- 
mission was  extended  to  other  staff  and  subaltern  officers.  Only  a 
few  of  the  Brunswickers  availed  themselves  of  this  permission,  pre- 
ferring to  remain  in  their  miserable  barracks,  and  thus  share  all 
inconveniences  with  their  men. 

"  The  camp  was  located  on  a  height,  which,  to  a  distance  of  eight 
miles,  was  siurounded  with  woods,  thus  presenting  a  splendid  view 
of  Boston,  the  harbor,  and  the  vast  ocean.  The  barracks  had  been 
built  in  1775,  at  the  time  that  the  Americans  first  took  up  arms,  and 
upon  these  very  heights  took  their  first  position  against  General 
Gage.     These  heights  were  fortified. 

"  When  the  fatigued  and  worn-out  troops  arrived  here  on  the  7th 
of  November  they  found  not  the  least  thing  for  their  support.  A 
h"ttle  straw  and  some  wood  was  everything  that  was  furnished  to  the 
soldiers.  The  officers  and  privates  were  obliged  to  repair  the  bar- 
racks as  well  as  they  could,  although  they  had  neither  tools  nor  ma- 
terials with  which  to  do  it.  Necessity,  liowever,  which  is  the  mother 
of  invention,  accomplished  incredible  things." 

The  question,  "Will  Yankees  fight?"  had  to  be  settled  in 


108        HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

the  Revolution.  It  might  be  supposed  that  Lexington  and 
Bunker  Hill  would  have  given  a  final  answer  to  such  queries, 
but  they  did  not.  The  Xew  England  troops,  when  they  came 
to  join  those  from  the  Southern  Colonies,  were  mercilessly  ridi- 
culed by  the  chivalrous  Southrons.  It  was  Puritan  and  Cava- 
lier over  again.  Hear  the  avowal  of  a  Pennsylvania  officer, 
who  evidently  spoke  the  feeling  of  his  section  :  — 

"  In  so  contemjDtible  a  light  were  the  New  England  men  regarded, 
that  it  was  scarcely  held  possible  to  conceive  a  case  which  could  be 
construed  into  a  reprehensible  disrespect  of  them." 

The  officers  came  in  for  a  degree  of  ridicule  second  only  to 
the  rank  and  file. 

"  So  far  from  aiming  at  a  deportment  which  might  raise  them 
iibove  their  privates,  and  thence  prompt  them  to  due  respect  and 
obedience  to  their  commands,  the  object  was,  by  humility,  to  pre- 
serve the  existing  blessing  of  equality  ;  an  illustrious  instance  of 
which  was  given  by  Colonel  Putnam,  the  chief  engineer  of  the  army, 
and  no  less  a  personage  than  the  nephew  of  the  major-general  of 
that  name.  '  What ! '  says  a  person,  meeting  him  one  day  with  a 
piece  of  meat  in  his  hand,  'carrying  home  your  rations  yourself, 
Colonel  ? '  '  Yes,'  says  he,  '  and  I  do  it  to  set  the  officers  a  good 
example.'  " 

This  feeling,  which  the  Southerners  were  at  no  pains  to  con- 
ceal, was  not  lost  on  the  objects  of  it,  who,  nevertheless,  for  the 
most  part  quietly  endured  the  opprobrium,  trusting  to  their 
deeds  to  set  them  right  in  good  time.  Sullivan,  who  was  a  little 
quick-tempered,  was  rather  restive  under  such  treatment.  An 
officer  of  Smallwood's  Maryland  regiment,  which  "  was  distin- 
guished by  the  most  fashionably  cut  coat,  the  most  macaroni 
cocked-hat,  and  hottest  blood  in  the  Union,"  had  been  guilty 
of  some  disrespect  or  disobedience  to  the  General.  He  was 
arrested  and  tried,  but,  as  the  narrator  ingeniously  records,  a 
majority  of  the  officers  being  Southern  men,  the  offender  was 
acquitted  with  honor.  Putnam  and  Greene  were  not  exempt 
from  the  derision  of  these  blue-blooded  heroes. 

This  was  about  the  time  of  the  disastrous  campaign  of  Long 


THE  CONTINENTAL  TRENCHES.  109 

Island.  The  battle  of  Trenton  displayed  the  qualities  of  the 
men  of  New  England  in  such  a  light  that  a  more  creditable 
feeling  began  to  be  discovered  by  the  men  of  the  South.  The 
despised  Yankees  showed  themselves  true  descendants  of  the 
men  of  Marston  Moor,  Dunbar,  and  Worcester ;  they  became 
to  Washington  what  Cromwell's  Ironsides  were  to  the  Protec- 
tor. The  Southern  cock  crowed  less  loudly,  and  Northern 
courage,  proved  again  and  again,  asserted,  as  it  ever  will  assert, 
to  its  gainsayers  :  — 

"  If  you  dare  fight  to-day,  come  to  the  field  ; 
If  not,  when  you  have  stomachs." 

We  may  well  pardon  one  of  our  generals  a  little  exultation 
when  he  writes  home,  after  the  battles  of  Trenton  and  Prince- 
ton :  — 

"  I  have  been  much  pleased  to  see  a  day  approaching  to  try  the 
difference  between  Yankee  cowardice  and  Southern  valor.  The  day, 
or  rather  the  days,  have  arrived,  and  all  the  general  officers  allowed, 
and  do  allow,  that  Yankee  cowardice  assmnes  the  shape  of  true 
valor  in  the  field,  and  that  Southern  valor  appears  to  be  a  composi- 
tion of  boasting  and  conceit.  General  Washington  made  no  scruple 
to  say  publicly  that  the  remains  of  the  Eastern  regiments  were  the 
strength  of  his  army,  though  their  numbers  were,  comparatively 
speaking,  but  small.  He  calls  them  in  front  when  the  enemy  are 
there.  He  sends  them  to  the  rear  when  the  enemy  threaten  that 
way.  All  the  general  officers  allow  them  to  be  the  best  of  troops. 
The  Southern  officers  and  soldiers  allow  it  in  time  of  danger,  but  not 
at  all  other  times.  Believe  me,  sir,  the  Yankees  took  Trenton  before 
the  other  troops  knew  anything  of  the  matter.  More  than  that,  there 
was  an  engagement,  and,  what  will  still  surprise  you  more,  the  line 
that  attacked  the  town  consisted  of  but  eight  hundred  Yankees,  and 
there  were  sixteen  hundred  Hessians  to  oppose  them.  At  Prince- 
ton, where  the  17th  regiment  had  thrown  thirty-five  hundred' 
Southern  militia  into  the  utmost  confusion,  a  regiment  of  Yankees 
restored  the  day.  This  General  Mifflin  confessed  to  me,  tliouf,di  the 
Philadelphia  papers  tell  us  a  different  story.  It  seems  to  liave  been 
quite  forgot  that,  while  the  17th  regiment  was  engaging  these  troops, 
six  hundred  Yankees  had  the  town  to  take  against  the  40th  and  55th 
regiments,  which  they  did  without  loss,  owing  to  the  manner  of 
attack." 


110       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF  MIDDLESEX. 


CHAPTEE    V. 

THE    OLD    WAYSIDE    MILL. 

"  There  watching  high  the  least  alarms, 
Thy  rough,  rude  fortress  gleams  afar, 
Like  some  bold  vet'ran  gray  iii  arms. 
And  marked  with  many  a  seamy  scar." 

BY  far  the  most  remarkable  object  to  be  seen  in  the  vicinity 
of  Boston  is  the  Old  Powder  House,  which  stands  on  a 
little  eminence  hard  by  the  road  leading  from  Winter  Hill 
to  Arlington,  —  formerly  the  old  stage-road  to  Keene,  New 
Hampshire.  In  the  day  of  its  erection  it  stood  at  the  meeting 
of  the  roads  from  Cambridge,  Mystic,  and  Menotomy, : —  a  situ- 
ation excellently  adapted  to  the  wants  of  the  settlements. 

It  is  the  only  really  antique  ruin  we  can  boast  of  in  Massa- 
chusetts; and  for  solitary  picturesqueness,  in  all  New  England, 
only  its  fellow^  the  Old  Mill  at  Newport,  can  rival  it.  Long 
before  you  reach  the  spot  its  venerable  aspect  rivets  the  atten- 
tion. Its  novel  structure,  its  solid  masonry,  no  less  than  the 
extraordinary  contrast  with  everything  around,  stamp  it  as 
the  handiwork  of  a  generation  long  since  forgotten.  We 
are  not  long  in  deciding  it  to  be  a  windmill  of  the  early 
settlers. 

The  Old  Mill,  as  w^e  shall  call  it,  belongs  to  the  early  part  of 
the  reign  of  good  Queen  Anne,  and  was  doubtless  erected  by 
John  Mallet,  who  came  into  possession  of  the  site  in  1703-04. 
It  remained  for  a  considerable  period  in  the  Mallet  family,  de- 
scending at  last,  in  1747,  to  Michael,  son  of  Andrew  Mallet,  by 
whom  it  was  conveyed  in  the  same  year  to  the  Province  of  the 
Massachusetts  Bay  in  New  England,  for  the  use  of  "  y^  Gover- 
nor, Council  and  Assembly  of  said  province,"  with  the  right  of 
way  to  and  from  the  high-road.     It  had,  however,  ceased  to  be 


THE   OLD   WAYSIDE   MILL.  ill 

used  as  a  windmill  long  before  this  transfer.  So  that  before 
Shirley's  armada  had  set  sail  for  Louisburg,  its  lusty  arms  had 
ceased  to  beat  the  air.  Strange  that  an  edifice  erected  to  sustain 
life  should  become  the  receptacle  of  such  a  death-dealing  sub- 
stance as  powder ! 

The  walls  of  the  mill  are  about  two  feet  in  thickness,  with  an 
inner  structure  of  brick,  the  outside  of  which  is  encased  in  a 
shell  of  blue  stone,  quarried,  probably,  on  the  hillside.  Within, 
it  has  three  stages  or  lofts  supported  by  oaken  beams  of  great 
thickness,  and  having,  each,  about  six  feet  of  clear  space  between. 
A  respectable  number  of  visitors  have  carved  their  names  on 
these  timbers.  There  were  entrances  on  the  northwest  and 
southwest  sides,  but  only  the  latter  belonged  to  the  original 
edifice,  the  small  brick  structure  on  the  northwest  having  been 
constructed  at  a  recent  date.  From  this  southwest  door  expands 
a  most  charming  view.  The  structure  is  capped  with  a  conical 
roof,  from  which  the  shingles  threaten  with  every  blast  to  sep- 
arate ;  and  the  lightning-rod  which  once  protected  the  strange 
grist  kept  for  a  time  in  the  mill  hangs  now  ilselessly  by  its 
fastenings.  The  edifice  is  about  thirty  feet  high,  with  a  diameter 
of  fifteen  feet  at  its  base. 

Mallet's  Mill  ground  for  many  an  old  farmstead  of  INIiddle- 
sex  or  Essex.  The  old  farm-house  in  which  the  miller  dwelt 
stood  by  the  roadside,  where  a  newer  habitation  now  is.  Ten, 
thirty,  sixty  miles,  and  back,  the  farmers  sent  their  sons  to 
mill.  The  roads  were  few  and  bad.  Oxen  performed  the 
labor  of  the  fields.  Those  that  came  from  a  distance  mounted 
their  horses  astride  a  sack  of  corn  in  lieu,  of  saddle,  and  so 
performed  their  journey. 

As  a  historical  monument,  the  mill  is  commemorative  of  one 
of  the  earliest  hostile  acts  of  General  Gage,  one  whicli  led  to 
the  most  important  events.  At  the  instance  of  William  Brattle, 
at  that  time  major-general  of  the  Massachusetts  militia,  General 
Gage  sent  an  expedition  to  seize  the  powder  in  this  magazine 
belonging  to  the  province.  About  four  o'clock  on  the  morning 
of  September  1,  1774,  two  hundred  and  sixty  soldiers  embarked 
from  Long  Wharf,  in  Boston,  in  thirteen  boats,  and  proceeded 


112       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

up  the  Mystic  River,  landing  at  Ten  Hills  Farm,  less  than  a 
mile  from  the  Powder  House.  The  magazine,  which  then  con- 
tained two  hundred  and  lifty  half-barrels  of  powder,  was  speed- 
ily emptied,  and  the  explosive  mixture  transported  to  the 
Castle,  while  a  detachment  of  the  expedition  proceeded  to 
Cambridge  and  brought  off  two  field-pieces  there.  At  the 
time  of  this  occurrence  William  Gamage  was  keeper  of  the 
magazine. 

The  news  of  the  seizure  circulated  with  amazing  rapidity, 
and  on  the  following  morning  several  thousand  of  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  neighboring  towns  had  assembled  on  Cambridge 
Common.  This  appears  to  have  been  the  very  first  occasion  on 
which  the  provincials  assembled  in  arms  with  the  intention  of 
opposing  the  forces  of  their  king.  Those  men  who  repaired  to 
the  Common  at  Cambridge  were  the  men  of  Middlesex  ;  when, 
therefore,  we  place  Massachusetts  in  the  front  of  the  Eevolu- 
tion,  Ave  must  put  Middlesex  in  the  van.  It  was  at  this  time 
that  the  lieutenant-governor  (Oliver)  and  several  of  the  coun- 
cillors were  compelled  to  resign.  The  Revolution  had  fully 
begun,  and  accident  alone  prevented  the  first  blood  being  shed 
on  Cambridge,  instead  of  Lexington,  Common. 

We  will  not  leave  the  old  mill  until  we  consider  for  a 
moment  what  a  centre  of  anxious  solicitude  it  had  become  in 
1775,  when  the  word  "  powder"  set  the  whole  camp  in  a  shiver. 
Putnam  prayed  for  it ;  Greene,  Sullivan,  and  the  rest  begged 
it  of  their  provincial  committees.  A  terrible  mistake  had 
occurred  through  the  inadvertence  of  the  Massachusetts  Com- 
mittee, which  had  returned  four  hundred  and  eight^^-five  quar- 
ter-casks as  on  hand,  when  there  were  actually  but  thirty-eight 
barrels  in  the  magazine.  When  Washington  was  apprised  of 
this  startling  error,  he  sat  for  half  an  hour  without  uttering 
a  word.  The  generals  present  —  the  discovery  was  made  at  a 
general  council  —  felt  with  him  as  if  the  army  and  the  cause 
had  received  its  death-blow.  "  The  word  'Powder'  in  a  letter," 
says  Reed,  "  sets  us  all  a-tiptoe."  The  heavy  artillery  was  use- 
less ;  they  were  obliged  to  bear  with  the  cannonade  of  the 
rascals  on  Bunker  Hill  in  silence ;    and,  what  was  worse  than 


THE   OLD   WAYSIDE   MILL.  113 

all  the  rest,  there  were  only  nine  rounds  for  the  small-arms  in 
the  hands  of  the  men.  In  the  whole  contest  there  was  not  a 
more  dangerous  hour  for  America, 

We  have  had  occasion  elsewhere  to  mention  this  scarcity  of 
ammunition.  At  no  time  was  the  army  in  possession  of  abun- 
dance. Before  Boston  the  cartridges  were  taken  from  the  men 
that  left  camp,  and  fourpence  was  charged  for  every  one  ex- 
pended without  proper  account.  The  inhabitants  were  called 
upon  to  give  up  their  window-weights  to  be  moulded  into  bul- 
lets, and  even  the  churchyards  were  laid  under  contribution  for 
the  leaden  coats-of-arms  of  the  deceased.  The  metal  pipes  of 
the  English  Church  of  Cambridge  were  appropriated  for  a  like 
purpose.  On  the  lines  the  men  plucked  the  fuses  from  the 
enemy's  shells,  or  chased  the  spent  shot  with  boyish  eagerness. 
In  this  way  missiles  were  sometimes  actually  returned  to  the 
enemy  before  they  had  cooled. 

The  old  name  of  the  eminence  on  which  the  Powder  House 
stands  was  Quarry  Hill,  from  the  quarries  opened  at  its  base 
more  than  a  century  and  a  half  ago.  The  region  round  about 
was,  from  the  earliest  times,  known  as  the  Stinted  Pasture,  and 
the  little  rivulet  near  at  hand  was  called  Two  Penny  Brook. 
When  the  province  bought  the  Old  Mill  there  was  but  a  quar- 
ter of  an  acre  of  land  belonging  to  it.  After  the  Old  War  the 
Powder  House  continued  to  be  used  by  the  State  until  the  erec- 
tion, more  than  forty  years  ago,  of  the  magazine  at  Cambridge- 
port.  It  was  then  sold,  and  passed  into  the  possession  of 
Xathan  Tufts,  from  whom  the  place  is  usually  known  as  the 
"  Tufts  Farm,"  but  it  has  never  lost  its  designation  as  the  "Old 
Powder-House  Farm,"  and  we  hope  it  never  will. 

Except  that  the  sides  of  the  edifice  are  somewhat  bulged  out, 
which  gives  it  a  portly,  aldermanic  appearance,  and  that  it 
shows  a  few  fissures  traversing  its  outward  crust,  the  Powder 
House  is  good  for  another  century  if  for  a  day.  Fortunately 
the  iconoclasts  have  not  yet  begun  to  sap  its  foundations. 
iN'othing  is  wanting  but  its  long  arms,  for  the  Old  Mill  to  have 
stepped  bodily  out  of  a  canvas  of  Rembrandt  or  a  cartoon  of 
Albert  Diirer.     It  carries  us  in  imagination  beyond  seas  to  the 

H 


114      HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

banks  of  the  Scheldt,  —  to  the  land  of  burgomasters,  dikes, 
and  guilders. 

There  is  not  the  smallest  doubt  that  Washington  has  often 
dismounted  at  the  Old  Mill,  or  that  Knox  came  here  seeking 
daily  food  for  his  Crown  Point  murtherers.  Sullivan,  in  whose 
command  it  was,  watched  over  it  with  anxious  care.  Will  not 
the  enterprising  young  city  keep  its  ancient  tower?  Once 
destroyed,  it  can  never  be  replaced ;  and,  while  it  may  not  be 
practicable  to  preserve  lines  of  intrenchments,  such  an  edifice 
may  easily  be  saved  for  those  who  will  come  after  us.  The 
battle-fields  of  the  Old  World  have  their  monuments.  Un- 
numbered pilgrims  pay  yearly  homage  before  the  lion  of 
Waterloo.  Our  Old  Mill  may  fairly  claim  to  illustrate  a  higher 
principle  than  brave  men  fallen  in  defence  of  despotic  power ; 
and  long  may  it  stand  to  remind  the  passer-by  of  the  Siege  of 
Boston ! 

In  furtherance  of  such  a  design,  we  would  gladly  see  a  tablet 
placed  on  the  mill  which  should  record  its  claims  to  public 
protection  by  reciting  the  following  passages  from  its  history  :  — 

"  This  edifice,  a  windmill  of  the  early  settlers,  was  erected  before 
1720.  Sold  to  the  Province  in  1747  for  a  magazine,  the  seizure, 
September  1, 1774,  by  General  Gage  of  the  Colony's  store  of  powder 
led  to  the  first  mustering  in  arms  of  the  yeomanry  of  Middlesex, 
September  2,  1774,  on  Cambridge  Common.  September  3  the 
avenues  into  Boston  were  closed  by  the  cannon  of  the  army  and 
fleet.  In  1775  it  became  the  magazine  of  the  American  army  be- 
sieging Boston." 

The  monument  is  already  standing.  All  it  asks  at  our 
hands  is  protection.  We  commend  to  the  people  of  ancient 
Charlestown  the  good  taste  and  example  of  the  citizens  of  New- 
port, who  have  surrounded  their  old  mill  with  a  railing,  and 
look  upon  it  as  one  of  the  chief  attractions  of  their  famous 
resort.  The  forty  rods  square  and  way  into  the  road  of  Old 
Mallet  should  remain,  with  the  mill,  the  property  of  the 
inhabitants.  If  this  be  done,  our  word  for  it,  the  plan  will 
early  reward  its  adoption,  and  prove  a  precious  legacy  of  care 
well  bestowed,  as  well  as  a  landmark  of  the  ramparts  of  the 
Revolution. 


THE    OLD   WAYSIDE   MILL.  115 

Sir  Walter  Scott  has  said,  "  Nothing  is  easier  than  to  make 
a  legend."  We  need  not  invent,  but  only  repeat  one  of  which 
the  Old  Mill  is  the  subject. 

A  Legend  op  the  Powder  House. 

In  the  day  of  Mallet,  the  miller,  it  was  no  unusual  occurrence 
for  a  customer  to  dismount  before  the  farm-house  door  after 
dark  ;  so  that  when,  one  sombre  November  evening,  the  good- 
man  sat  at  his  evening  meal,  he  was  not  surprised  to  hear  a 
horse  neigh,  and  a  faint  halloo  from  the  rider. 

Going  to  the  door,  the  miller  saw,  by  the  light  of  the  lan- 
tern he  held  aloft,  a  youth  mounted  on  a  strong  beast,  whose 
steaming  flanks  gave  evidence  that  he  had  been  pushed  at  the 
top  of  his  speed,  and  whose  neck  was  already  stretched  wist- 
fully in  the  direction  of  the  miller's  crib. 

Mallet,  —  when  was  your  miller  aught  else  in  song  or  story 
but  a  downright  jolly  fellow,  —  in  cheery  tones,  bade  the  lad 
dismount  and  enter,  at  the  same  time  calling  liis  son  Andre  to 
lead  the  stranger's  horse  to  the  stable,  and  have  a  care  for  the 
brace  of  well-filled  bags  that  were  slung  across  the  crupper. 

Once  within  the  house  the  new-comer  seemed  to  shrink  from 
the  scrutiny  of  the  miller's  wife  and  daughters,  and,  notwith- 
standing his  evident  fatigue,  could  scarcely  be  prevailed  upon 
to  touch  the  relics  of  the  evening  repast,  which  the  goodwife 
placed  before  him.  He  swallowed  a  few  mouthfuls,  and  then 
withdrew  into  the  darkest  corner  of  the  cavernous  fireplace, 
where  a  rousing  fire  blazed  on  the  hearth,  crackling,  and  dif- 
fusing a  generous  warmth  through  the  apartment. 

The  stranger  was  a  mere  stripling,  with  a  face  the  natural 
pallor  of  which  was  heightened  by  a  pair  of  large,  restless  black 
eyes,  that  seemed  never  to  rest  on  any  object  at  which  they 
were  directed,  but  glanced  furtively  from  the  glistening  fire- 
irons  to  the  spinning-wheel  at  which  Goodwife  Mallet  was  em- 
ployed, and  from  the  rude  pictures  on  the  wall  back  to  the 
queen's  arm  which  hung  by  its  hooks  above  the  chimney-piece. 
"  Certes,"  muttered  Mallet,  under  his  breath,  "  this  fellow  is  no 
brigand,  I  '11  be  sworn." 


116       HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

The  habit  of  those  days  among  the  poorer  classes  was  early 
to  bed,  and  soon  the  miller  set  the  example  by  taking  a  greasy 
dip-candle  and  saying  :  "  Come,  wife,  Marie,  Ivan,  to  bed  ;  and 
you,  Andre,  see  that  all  is  secured.  Come,  lad,"  —  beckoning 
to  his  guest,  —  "  follow  me." 

Leading  the  way  up  the  rickety  stairs,  the  miller  reached 
the  garret,  and,  pointing  to  the  only  bed  it  contained,  bade  the 
wayfarer  share  a  good  night's  rest  with  his  son  Andre.  The 
startled  expression  of  the  stranger's  face,  and  the  painful  flush 
that  lingered  there,  were  not  observed  by  the  bluff  old  miller. 
They  were  plain  folk,  and  used  to  entertain  guests  as  they 
might. 

The  youth  entreated  that  if  he  might  not  have  a  couch  to 
himself,  he  might  at  least  sit  by  the  kitchen  fire  till  morning ; 
but  his  request  was  sternly  refused  by  the  miller,  with  marks 
of  evident  displeasure.  "  Harkye,  lad,"  he  blurted  out,  *•'  your 
speech  is  fair,  and  you  do  not  look  as  if  you  would  cut  our 
throats  in  the  dark,  but  if  ye  can't  sleep  with  the  miller's  son 
for  a  bedfellow,  your  highness  must  e'en  couch  with  the  rats  at 
the  mill,  for  other  place  there  is  none."  To  his  surprise  the 
boy  caught  eagerly  at  the  proposal,  and,  after  no  little  per- 
suasion, he  yielded,  and  conducted  his  fastidious  visitor  out 
into  the  open  air,  muttering  his  disapproval  in  no  stinted 
phrase  as  he  took  the  well-trod  path  that  led  to  the  mill. 

The  old  mill  loomed  large  in  the  obscurity,  its  seance  dis- 
tinguishable outline  seeming  a  piece  fitted  into  the  surrounding 
darkness.  The  sails,  idly  flapping  in  the  night  wind,  gave  to 
the  whole  structure  the  appearance  of  some  antique,  winged 
monster,  just  stooping  for  a  flight.  The  boy  shivered,  and  drew 
his  roquelaure  closer  around  him. 

Entering  the  mill,  the  youth  ascended  by  a  ladder  to  tlie  loft ; 
the  miller  fastened  the  oaken  door  and  withdrew.  Left  alone, 
the  strange  lad  turned  to  the  narrow  loophole,  through  which  a 
single  star  was  visible  in  the  heavens,  and,  taking  some  object 
from  his  breast,  pressed  it  to  his  lips.  He  then  threw  himself, 
sobbing,  on  a  heap  of  empty  bags.  Silence  fell  upon  the 
old  mill. 


THE    OLD    WAYSIDE    MILL.  117 

The  slumbers  of  the  lonely  occupant  were  erelong  rudely 
disturbed  by  the  sound  of  voices,  among  which  he  distinguished 
that  of  the  miller,  who  appeared  to  be  engaged  in  unfastening 
his  locks  in  a  manner  far  too  leisurely  to  satisfy  the  haste  of  his 
companions.  Another  voice,  one  which  seemed  to  terrify  the 
boy  by  its  harsh  yet  familiar  accents,  bade  the  miller  despatch 
for  a  bungling  fool.  The  boy,  moved  with  a  sudden  impulse, 
(irew  the  ladder  by  which  he  had  gained  the  loft  up  to  his 
retreat,  and,  placing  it  against  the  scuttle,  ascended  yet  higher. 

The  flash  of  lights  below  showed  that  the  men  were  within, 
as  a  volley  of  oaths  betrayed  the  disappointment  of  the  princi- 
pal speaker  at  finding  access  cut  off  to  the  object  of  his  pursuit. 
"  Ho  there,  Claudine  !  "  exclaimed  this  person,  "  descend,  and 
you  shall  be  forgiven  this  escapade  ;  come  down,  I  say.  Curse 
the  girl !  —  MiHer  !  another  ladder,  and  I  '11  bring  her  down,  or 
my  name  's  not  Dick  Wynne." 

Another  ladder  was  brought,  which  the  speaker,  uttering 
wild  threats,  mounted,  but,  not  finding  his  victim  as  he  ex- 
pected at  the  first  stage,  he  was  compelled  to  cHmb  to  that 
above.  The  fugitive,  crouched  panting  in  a  corner,  betrayed 
her  presence  only  by  her  quickened  breathing,  while  the  man, 
whose  eyes  were  yet  unaccustomed  to  the  darkness,  could  only 
grope  cautiously  around  the  cramped  area. 

Finding  it  impossible  longer  to  elude  her  pursuer,  the  girl, 
with  a  piercing  cry  for  help,  attempted  to  reach  the  ladder, 
when  the  man,  making  a  sudden  efibrt  to  grasp  her,  missed  his 
footing,  and  fell  headlong  through  the  opening.  In  his  descent, 
his  hand  coming  in  contact  with  something,  he  grasped  it 
instinctively,  and  felt  his  flight  arrested  at  the  moment  a  yell 
of  horror  smote  upon  his  ears.  "  Damnation  !  "  screamed  the 
miller,  "let  go  the  cord,  or  you  're  a  dead  man." 

It  was  too  late.  In  an  instant  the  old  mill,  shaking  ofl'  its 
lethargy,  was  all  astir  with  life.  The  ponderous  arms  were 
already  in  quick  revolution,  and  the  man  was  caught  and 
crushed  within  the  mechanism  he  had  set  in  motion.  The  mill 
was  stopped ;  the  helpless  sufferer  extricated  and  conveyed  to 
the  farm-house.  He  uttered  but  one  word,  "  Claudine,"  and 
became  insensiljle. 


118       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

The  poor  Acadian  peasant  girl  was  one  of  those  who  had 
been  separated  from  their  homes  by  the  rigorous  poHcy  of  their 
conquerors.  These  victims  were  parcelled  out  among  the  dif- 
ferent towns  like  so  many  brutes,  and  Claudine  had  fallen  into 
the  power  of  a  wretch.  This  man,  who  wished  to  degrade  the 
pretty  French  girl  to  the  position  of  his  mistress,  had  pushed 
his  importunities  so  far  that  at  last  the  girl  had  obtained  a  dis- 
guise, and,  watching  her  opportunity,  saddled  her  master's  horse 
and  fled.  The  man,  with  a  warrant  and  an  officer,  was,  as  we 
have  seen,  close  upon  her  track. 

At  break  of  day  the  officer  returned  from  the  town  with  a 
chirurgeon  and  a  clergyman.  The  examination  of  the  man  of 
medicine  left  no  room  for  hope,  and  he  gave  place  to  the  man 
of  God.  Consciousness  returns  for  a  moment  to  the  bruised 
and  bleeding  Wynne.  Powerless  to  move,  his  eyes  turn  to  the 
bedside,  where  stands,  in  her  proper  attire,  the  object  of  his 
fatal  passion,  bitterly  weeping,  and  holding  a  crucifix  in  her 
hands.  The  morning  sun  gilds  the  old  mill  with  touches  a 
Turner  could  not  reproduce.  His  rays  fall  aslant  the  farm- 
house, and  penetrate  through  the  little  diamond  panes  within 
the  chamber,  where  a  stricken  group  stand  hushed  and  awe- 
struck in  the  presence  of  death. 


THE  PLANTATION  AT   MYSTIC   SIDE.  119 


CHAPTEE    VI. 

THE    PLANTATION    AT    MYSTIC    SIDE. 

" Come  pass  about  the  bowl  to  me; 
A  health  to  our  distressed  king." 

AS  you  approach  Medford  by  the  Old  Boston  Road,  you 
see  at  your  left  hand,  standing  on  a  rise  of  ground  not 
half  a  mile  out  of  the  village,  a  mansion  so  strongly  marked 
with  the  evidences  of  a  decayed  magnificence  that  your  atten- 
tion is  at  once  arrested,  and  you  will  not  proceed  without  a 
nearer  view  of  an  object  which  has  so  justly  excited  your 
interest,  or  awakened,  perhaps,  a  mere  transient  curiosity. 

Whatever  the  motive  which  leads  you  to  thread  the  broad 
avenue  that  leads  up  to  the  entrance  door,  our  word  for  it  you 
will  not  depart  with  regret  that  your  footsteps  have  strayed  to 
its  portal.  Built  by  a  West-Indian  nabob,  inhabited  by  one 
whose  character  and  history  have  been  for  a  hundred  years  a 
puzzle  to  historians,  —  a  man  "  full  of  strange  oaths,"  the  very 
prince  of  egotists,  and  yet  not  without  claim  to  our  kindly  con- 
sideration, —  the  old  house  fairly  challenges  our  inquiry. 

Externally  the  building  presents  three  stories,  the  upper  tier 
of  windows  being,  as  is  usual  in  houses  of  even  a  much  later 
date,  smaller  than  those  underneath.  Every  pane  has  rattled 
at  the  boom  of  the  British  morning-gun  on  Bunker  Hill ;  every 
timber  shook  with  the  fierce  cannonade  which  warned  the  in- 
vaders to  their  ships. 

The  house  is  of  brick,  but  is  on  three  sides  entirely  sReathed 
in  wood,  while  the  south  end  stands  exposed.  The  reason 
which  prompted  the  builder  to  make  the  west  front  by  far  the 
most  ornamental  does  not  readily  appear ;  but  certain  it  is, 
that  the  mansion,  in  defiance  of  our  homely  maxim,  "  Put 
vour  best  foot  foremost,"  seems  to  have  turned  its  back  to  the 


120       HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX.. 

highway,  as  if  it  would  ignore  what  was  passing  in  the  outer 
world. 

Sufficient  unto  himself,  no  doubt,  with  his  gardens,  his 
slaves,  and  his  rich  wines,  was  the  old  Antigua  merchant,  Isaac 
Eoyall,  who  came,  in  1737,  from  his  tropical  home  to  establish 
his  seat  here  in  ancient  Charlestown.  He  is  said  to  have 
brought  with  him  twenty-seven  slaves.  In  December,  1737, 
he  laid  before  the  General  Court  his  petition,  as  follows,  in 
regard  to  these  "  chattels  "  :  — 

"  Petition  of  Isaac  Royall,  late  of  Antigua,  now  of  Charlestown, 
in  the  county  of  Middlesex,  that  he  removed  from  Antigua  with  liis 
family,  and  brought  with  him,  among  other  things  and  chattels,  a 
parcel  of  negroes,  designed  for  his  own  use  and  not  any  of  them  for 
merchandise.     He  prays  that  he  may  not  be  taxed  with  impost." 

The  brick  quarters  which  the  skives  occupied  are  situated  on 
the  south  side  of  the  mansion  and  front  U])on  the  court- yard, 
one  side  of  which  they  enclose.  These  have  remained  un- 
changed, and  are,  we  believe,  the  last  visible  relics  of  slavery 
in  New  England.  The  deep  fire2:)lace  where  the  blacks  pre- 
pared their  food  is  still  there,  and  the  roll  of  slaves  has  cer- 
tainly been  called  in  sight  of  Bunker  Hill,  though  never  on 
its  summit. 

At  either  end  of  the  building  the  brick  wall,  furnished  with 
a  pair  of  stout  chimneys,  rises  above  tlie  pitched  roof.  The 
cornice  and  corners  are  relieved  by  ornamental  wood-work, 
while  the  west  face  is  panelled,  and  further  decorated  with 
fluted  pilasters.  On  this  side,  too,  the  original  windows  are 
seen. 

The  Royall  House  stood  in  the  midst  of  grounds  laid  out  in 
elegant  taste,  and  embellished  with  fruit-trees  and  shrubber}-. 
These  grounds  were  separated  from  the  highway  by  a  low  l)rick 
waU,  no^v  demohshed.  The  gateway  opening  upon  the  grand 
avenue  was  flanked  by  wooden  posts.  Farther  to  the  right 
was  the  carriage-drive,  on  either  side  of  which  stood  massive 
stone  gate-posts,  as  antique  in  appearance  as  anything  about  the 
old  mansion.  Seventy  paces  back  from  the  road,  along  the 
broad  gravelled  walk,  bordered  with  box,  brings  you  to 
the  door. 


THE   PLANTATION    AT    MYSTIC    SIDE.  121 

A  visitor  arriving  in  a  carriage  either  alighted  at  the  front 
entrance  or  passed  by  the  broad  drive,  under  the  shade  of  mag- 
nificent old  elms,  around  into  the  court-yard  previously  men- 
tioned, and  paved  with  round  beach  pebbles,  through  the 
interstices  of  which  the  grass  grows  thickly.  Emerging  from 
the  west  entrance-door,  the  old  proprietor  mounted  the  steps 
of  the  family  coach,  and  rolled  away  in  state  to  Boston  Town- 
House,  where,  as  a  member  of  the  Great  and  General  Court,  he 
long  served  his  fellow-citizens  of  Charlestown.  The  driveway 
has  now  become  a  street,  to  the  ruin  of  its  former  glory,  the 
stately  trees. 

Behind  the  house,  as  we  view  it,  was  an  enclosed  garden  of 
half  an  acre  or  more,  with  walks,  fruit,  and  a  summer-house  at 
the  farther  extremity.  No  doubt  tliis  was  the  favorite  resort 
of  the  family  and  their  guests. 

This  summer-house,  a  veritable  curiosity  in  its  way,  is  placed 
upon  an  artificial  mound,  with  two  terraces,  and  is  reached  by 
broad  flights  of  red  sandstone  steps.  It  is  octagonal  in  form, 
with  a  bell-shaped  roof,  surmounted  by  a  cupola,  on  which  is 
placed  a  figure  of  Mercury.  At  present  the  statue,  with  the 
loss  of  both  wings  and  arms,  cannot  be  said  to  resemble  the 
dashing  god.  The  exterior  is  highly  ornamented  with  Ionic 
pilasters,  and,  taken  as  a  whole,  is  delightfully  ruinous.  We 
discover  that  utility  led  to  the  elevation  of  the  mound,  within 
which  was  an  ice-house,  the  existence  of  which  is  disclosed  by 
a  trap-door  in  the  floor  of  the  summer-house.  An  artist  drew 
the  plan  of  this  little  structure,  a  worthy  companion  of  that 
formerly  existing  in  Peter  Faneuil's  grounds  in  Boston.  Doubt- 
less George  Erving  and  Sir  William  Pepperell  came  hither  to 
pay  their  court  to  the  royalist's  daughters,  and  greatly  we  mis- 
take if  its  dilapidated  walls  might  not  whisper  of  many  a 
love-tryst. 

After  having  rambled  through  the  grounds  and  examined 
the  surroundings  of  the  mansion,  we  returned  to  the  house, 
prepared  to  inspect  the  interior. 

Without  lingering  in  the  hall  of  entrance  farther  than  to 
mark  the  elaborately  carved  balusters  and  the  panelled  wainscot, 
6 


122      HISTOKIC  FIELDS  AND    MANSIONS   OF  MIDDLESEX. 

we  passed  into  the  suite  of  apartments  at  the  right  hand,  the 
reception-rooms  proper  of  the  house.  These  were  divided  in 
two  by  an  arch,  in  which  folding-doors  were  concealed ;  and 
from  floor  to  ceiling  the  walls  were  panelled  in  wood,  the  panels 
being  of  single  pieces,  some  of  them  a  yard  in  breadth.  In  the 
rear  apartment,  and  opening  to  the  north,  were  two  alcoves, 
each  flanked  by  fluted  pilasters,  on  which  rested  an  arch  en- 
riched with  inouldings  and  carved  ornaments.  Each  recess  had 
a  window  furnished  with  seats,  so  inviting  for  a  tete-a-tete,  where 
the  ladies  of  the  household  sat  with  their  needlework ;  these 
windows  were  sealed  up  in  winter.  The  heavy  cornice  formed 
an  elaborate  finish  to  this  truly  elegant  saloon. 

On  the  right,  as  the  visitor  entered,  was  a  sideboard,  which 
old-time  hospitality  required  should  be  always  garnished  with 
wines,  or  a  huge  bowl  of  punch.  The  host  first  filled  himself 
a  glass,  and  drank  to  his  guest,  who  was  then  expected  to  pay 
the  same  courtesy  to  the  master  of  the  mansion.  No  little  of 
Colonel  Royall's  wealth  was  founded  on  the  traffic  in  Antigua 
rum,  and  we  doubt  not  his  sideboard  was  well  furnished.  In 
those  days  men  drank  their  pint  of  Antigua,  and  carried  it  off", 
too,  with  no  dread  of  any  enemy  but  the  gout,  nor  feared  to 
present  themselves  before  ladies  with  the  aroma  of  good  old 
Xeres  upon  them.  But  we  have  fallen  upon  sadly  degenerate, 
weak-headed  times,  when  the  young  men  of  to-day  cannot  make 
a  brace  of  New-Year's  calls  without  an  unsteady  gait  and  tell- 
tale tongue. 

The  second  floor  was  furnished  with  four  chambers,  all  open- 
ing on  a  spacious  and  airy  hall.  Of  these  the  northwest  room 
only  demands  special  description.  It  had  alcoves  similar  to 
those  already  mentioned  in  the  apartment  underneath,  but 
instead  of  panels  the  walls  were  finished  above  the  wainscot 
with  a  covering  of  leather  on  which  were  embossed,  in  gorgeous 
colors,  flowers,  birds,  pagodas,  and  the  concomitants  of  a  Chinese 
paradise.  On  this  side  the  original  windows,  with  the  smaU 
glass  and  heavy  frames,  still  remain. 

The  family  of  Royall  in  this  country  originated  with  William 
RoyaU,  or  Ryal,   of  North  Yarmouth,  Maine,   who  was  un- 


THE   PLANTATION   AT   MYSTIC    SIDE.  123 

doubtedly  the  person  mentioned  by  Hazard  as  being  sent  over 
as  a  cooper  or  cleaver  in  1629.  His  son,  Samuel,  followed  the 
same  trade  of  cooper  in  Boston  as  early  as  1665-66,  living 
with  old  Samuel  Cole,  the  comfit-maker  and  keeper  of  the  first 
inn  mentioned  in  the  annals  of  Boston.  His  father,  AYilliam 
Royall,  had  married  Hebe  Green,  daughter  of  Margaret,  former 
wife  to  Samuel  Cole.  William,  another  son  of  William, 
appears  to  have  settled  in  Dorchester,  where  he  died,  in  1724. 
His  son,  Isaac  Royall,  was  a  soldier  in  Philip's  War,  and  l)uilt 
the  second  meetingdiouse  in  Dorchester. 

Isaac  Royall,  the  builder  of  our  mansion,  did  not  live  long 
enough  to  enjoy  his  princely  estate,  dying  in  1739,  not  long 
after  its  completion.  His  widow,  who  survived  him  eight 
years,  died  in  this  house,  but  was  interred  from  Colonel  Oliver's, 
in  Dorchester,  April  25,  1747.  The  pair  share  a  common  tomb 
in  the  old  burying-place  of  that  ancient  town. 

Isaac  Royall  the  Second  took  good  care  of  his  patrimony. 
He  was  the  owner  of  considerable  property  in  Boston  and  Med- 
ford.  Among  other  estates  in  the  latter  town,  he  was  the 
proprietor  of  the  old  Admiral  Yernon  Tavern,  wdiich  was  stand- 
ing in  1743,  near  the  bridge. 

A  visitor  preceding  us  by  a  century  and  a  quarter  thus  speaks 
of  the  same  house  we  are  describing  :  — 

"  On  our  journey  past  through  Mistick  which  is  a  small  Town 
of  abt  a  hundred  Houses,  Pleasantly  Situated,  near  to  which  is  a  Fine 
Country  Seat  belonging  to  Mr.  Isaac  Royall  being  one  of  the  Grand- 
est in  N.  America." 

When  the  Revolution  begun  Colonel  Royall  fell  upon  evil 
times.  He  was  appointed  a  councillor  by  mandamus,  but  de- 
clined serving,  as  Gage  says  to  Lord  Dartmouth,  from  timidity. 
His  own  account  of  his  movements  after  the  beginning  oi' 
"  these  troubles  "  is  such  as  to  confirm  the  governor's  opinion, 
while  it  exhibits  him  as  a  loyalist  of  a  very  moderate  cast. 

He  had  prepared  to  take  passage  for  the  West  Indies,  intend- 
ing to  embark  from  Salem  for  Antigua,  but,  having  gone  into 
Boston  the  Sunday  previous  to  the  battle  of  Lexington,  and 


124       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

remained  there  until  that  affair  occurred,  he  was,  by  the  course 
of  events,  shut  up  in  the  town.  He  sailed  for  Halifax  very 
soon,  still  intending,  as  he  says,  for  Antigua,  but  on  the  arrival 
of  his  son-in-law,  George  Erving,  and  his  daughter,  with  the 
troops  from  Boston,  he  was  by  them  persuaded  to  sail  for  Eng- 
land, whither  his  other  son-in-law,  Sir  William  Pepperell,  had 
preceded  him. 

Upon  his  arrival  in  England  he  waited  upon  Lord  Dartmouth 
and  Lord  Germaine,  but  was  not  received  by  them.  Governor 
Pownall,  in  the  course  of  a  long  conversation  with  Colonel 
Eoyall,  expressed  a  strong  regard  for  the  Province  in  general, 
as  being  a  very  hne  country  and  a  good  sort  of  people,  and, 
while  lamenting  the  difficulties,  said  that  if  his  advice  had  pre- 
vailed they  would  not  have  happened.  Eoyall  also  exchanged 
visits  with  Governors  Bernard  and  Hutchinson,  but,  neglecting 
an  invitation  to  dine  w4th  the  latter,  the  acquaintance  dropped. 

Colonel  Eoyall,  after  the  loss  of  some  of  his  nearest  relatives 
and  of  his  own  health,  begged  earnestly  to  be  allowed  to  return 
"  home  "  to  ]\Iedford,  and  to  be  relieved  from  the  acts  which 
had  been  passed  affecting  the  absentees.  The  estate  had,  how- 
ever, been  taken  out  of  the  hands  of  his  agent.  Dr.  Tufts,  in 

1788,  under  the  Act  of  Confiscation. 

In  Colonel  Eoyall's  plea  to  be  permitted  to  return  home,  in 

1789,  half  ludicrous,  half  pathetic,  he  declares  he  was  ever  a 
true  friend  of  the  Province,  and  expresses  the  wish  to  marry 
again  in  his  own  country,  Avhere,  having  already  had  one  good 
wife,  he  was  in  hopes  to  get  another,  and  in  some  degree  repair 
his  loss.  Penelope  Eoyall,  sister  of  Isaac,  was  married  to 
Colonel  Henry  Vassall  of  Cambridge. 

Peace  be  with  the  absconding  royalist  for  an  inoffensive, 
well-meaning,  but  shockingly  timid  old  tory !  He  would  fain 
have  lived  in  amity  with  all  men  and  with  his  king  too,  but 
the  crisis  engulfed  him  even  as  his  valor  forsook  him.  His 
fears  counselled  him  to  run,  and  he  obeyed.  But  he  is  not  for- 
gotten. His  large-hearted  benevolence  showed  itself  in  many 
bequests  to  that  country  to  which  he  was  alien  only  in  name. 
The  Eoyall  Professorship  of  Law  at  Harvard  was  founded  by 


I 


THE    PLANTATION    AT    MYSTIC    SIDE.  125 

his  bounty.  He  has  a  town  (Royalston)  in  Massachusetts 
named  for  him,  and  is  remembered  with  affection  in  the  phice 
of  his  former  abode. 

After  inspecting  the  kitchen,  with  its  monstrous  brick  oven 
still  in  perfect  repair,  its  iron  chimney-back,  with  the  Royall 
arms  impressed  upon  it,  we  inquired  of  the  lady  who  had  kindly 
attended  us  if  she  had  ever  been  disturbed  by  strange  visions 
or  frightful  dreams.  She  looked  somewhat  perplexed  at  the 
question,  but  replied  in  the  negative.  "  They  were  all  good 
people,  you  know,  who  dwelt  here  in  bygone  times,"  she  said. 

When  the  yeomen  began  pouring  into  the  environs  of  Boston, 
encircling  it  with  a  belt  of  steel,  the  New  Hampshire  levies 
pitched  their  tents  in  Medford.  They  found  the  Royall  man- 
sion in  the  occupancy  of  Madam  Royall  and  her  accomplished 
daughters,  who  willingly  received  Colonel  John  Stark  into  the 
house  as  a  safeguard  against  insult  or  any  invasion  of  the  estate 
tlie  soldiery  might  attempt.  A  few  rooms  were  set  apart  for 
the  use  of  the  bluff*  old  ranger,  and  he,  on  his  part,  treated  the 
family  with  considerate  respect.  Stark's  wife  afterwards  fol- 
lowed him  to  camp,  and  when  Dorchester  Heights  were  occu- 
pied was  by  him  directed  to  mount  on  horseback  and  w^atch 
the  passage  of  his  detachment  over  to  West  Boston.  If  his 
landing  was  opposed,  she  was  to  ride  into  the  country  and 
spread  the  alarm.     These  were  the  men  and  women  of  1776. 

John  Stark  was  formed  by  nature  for  a  leader.  Though  the 
reins  of  discipline  chafed  his  impetuous  spirit,  few  men  pos- 
sessed in  a  greater  degree  the  confidence  of  his  soldiers.  The 
very  hairs  of  his  head  seem  bristling  for  the  fray.  A  counte- 
nance strongly  marked,  high  cheek-bones,  eyes  keen  and  thought- 
ful, nose  prominent,  —  in  short,  the  aspect  of  an  eagle  of  his 
own  mountains,  with  a  soul  as  void  of  fear.  He  was  at  times 
somewhat  "  splenetive  and  rash."  While  stationed  here  he  one 
day  sent  a  file  of  his  men  to  arrest  and  bring  to  camp  a  civilian 
accused  of  some  extortion  towards  his  men.  Such  acts,  with- 
out the  knowledge  of  his  general,  were  sure  to  bring  reproof 
upon  Stark,  which  he  received  with  tolerable  grace.  But  he 
was  always  ready  to  render  ample  satisfaction  for  a  wrong.    The 


126       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

election  for  colonel  of  the  New  Hampshire  regiment  was  held 
in  the  public  hall  of  Billings's  tavern  in  Medford,  afterwards 
called  the  New  Hampshire  Hall.  It  was  a  hand  vote,  and 
some,  they  say,  held  up  both  hands  for  John  Stark. 

In  the  fall  of  1776  a  small  party  of  the  British  came  up  the 
lake  before  Ticonderoga  to  take  soundings  of  the  depth  of 
water.  From  the  prospect  of  attack  Gates  summoned  a  council 
of  war.  There  were  no  officers  who  had  been  in  actual  service 
except  Gates  and  Stark.  Gates  took  Stark  aside,  and  the  fol- 
lowing dialogue  ensued  :  — 

Gates.    What  do  you  think  of  it,  John  ? 
Stark.    I  think  if  they  come  we  must  fight  them. 
Gates.    Psho,  John  !     Tell  me  what  your  opinion  is,  seriously. 
Stark.    My  opinion  is,  that  they  will  not  fire  a  shot  against  this 
place  this  season,  but  whoever  is  here  next  must  look  out. 

Stark  and  Gates  were  very  intimate ;  they  addressed  each 
other  famiharly  by  their  given  names.  The  events  justified 
Stark's  sagacity. 

It  is  also  related  that  at  the  memorable  council  of  war  where 
the  movement  to  Trenton  was  decided  upon.  Stark,  who  came 
in  late,  said  to  Washington,  "  Yom-  men  have  long  been  accus- 
tomed to  place  dependence  upon  spades,  pickaxes,  and  hoes  for 
safety,  but  if  you  ever  mean  to  establish  the  independence  of 
the  United  States,  you  must  teach  them  to  put  confidence  in 
their  fire-arms."  Washington  answered,  "That  is  what  we 
have  agreed  upon ;  we  are  to  march  to-morrow  to  the  attack  of 
Trenton  ;  you  are  to  take  command  of  the  right  wing  of  the 
advanced  guard,  and  General  Greene  the  left."  Stark  observed 
he  could  not  have  been  better  suited.  It  is  noticeable  that 
several  officers  attached  to  the  brigade  on  Winter  Hill  served  in 
this  action,  namely,  Sullivan,  Stark,  Scammell,  and  Wilkinson. 

One  of  Washington's  most  trusted  officers  thus  wrote  to  a 
friend  in  Boston  of  the  battle  of  Bennington  :  — 

"  The  news  of  the  victory  at  the  northward,  under  General  Stark, 
must  give  you  singular  satisfaction;  indeed,  it  was  a  most  noble 
stroke  for  the  oldest  troops,  but  the  achievement  by  militia  doubly 
enhances  the  value  of  the  action.  America  will  ever  be  free  if  all 
her  sons  exert  themselves  equally." 


THE    PLANTATION    AT   MYSTIC    SIDE.  127 

This  battle,  like  that  of  Trenton,  was  an  act  of  inspiration. 
We  cannot,  at  this  distance  of  time,  aj^preciate  its  electric 
effect  upon  the  public  mind,  then  sunk  in  despondency  by  the 
fall  of  Ticonderoga,  and  the  rapid  and  unchecked  advance  of 
Burgoyne.  It  was  generally  believed  that  Boston  was  the 
British  general's  destination.  Great  alarm  prevailed  in  conse- 
quence, and  many  families  removed  from  the  town.  The  news 
of  Bennington,  therefore,  was  received  with  great  joy.  At 
sundown  about  one  hundred  of  the  first  gentlemen  of  the  town, 
with  all  the  strangers  then  in  Boston,  met  at  the  Bunch  of 
Grapes  in  State  Street,  where  good  liquors  and  a  side  table 
were  provided.  In  the  street  were  two  brass  lield-pieces  with 
a  detachment  of  Colonel  Craft's  regiment.  In  the  balcony  of 
the  Old  State  House  all  the  musicians  of  Henry  Jackson's  regi- 
ment were  assembled,  with  their  fifes  and  drums.  The  ball 
was  opened  by  the  discharge  of  thirteen  cannon,  and  at  every 
toast  three  guns  were  fired,  followed  by  a  flight  of  rockets. 
A])out  nine  o'clock  two  barrels  of  grog  were  brought  into  the 
street  for  the  people  that  had  collected  there.  The  whole  affair 
was  conducted  with  the  greatest  propriety,  and  by  ten  o'clock 
every  man  was  at  his  home. 

The  effect  on  enlistments  was  equally  happy.  In  the  back 
parts  of  the  State  tlie  militia  turned  out  to  a  man.  The  best 
farmers  went  into  the  ranks,  and  Massachusetts  soon  enrolled 
the  finest  body  of  militia  that  had  taken  the  field.  The  sea- 
ports were  more  backward.  The  towns  that  had  not  secured 
their  quotas  for  the  continental  army  were  giving  £  100,  lawful 
money,  bounty  for  men.  Some  towns  gave  as  much  as  five 
hundred  dollars  for  each  man  enlisted. 

Caj^tain  Barns,  who  brought  the  news  of  the  battle  of  Ben- 
nington to  Boston,  related  that,  "  after  the  first  action.  General 
Stark  ordered  a  hogshead  of  rum  for  the  refreshment  of  tlie 
militia ;  but  so  eager  were  they  to  attack  the  enemy,  upon  be- 
ing reinforced,  that  they  tarried  not  to  taste  of  it,  but  rushed 
on  the  enemy  with  an  ardor  perhaps  unparalleled." 

Stark  sent  to  Boston  not  long  after  the  battle  the  trophies, 
presented  to  the  State,   now  ])laced   in   the  Senate  Chamber. 


128       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

The  drum  is  one  of  several  captured  on  the  field,  while  the 
sword,  carried  by  one  of  Eiedesel's  dragoons,  required  no  pygmy 
to  wield  it ;  in  fact,  the  hat  and  sword  of  a  German  dragoon 
were  as  heavy  as  the  whole  equipment  of  a  British  soldier. 

There  are  other  memorials  of  the  battles  of  Bennington  and 
of  Saratoga  preserved  in  Boston.  The  original  orders  of  Bur- 
goyne  to  Baum  were  deposited  with  the  Massachusetts  Histori- 
cal Society  by  General  Lincoln,  while  the  capitulation  of  Sara- 
toga is  in  the  Public  Library.  It  is  not  a  little  remarkable, 
too,  that  the  original  draft  of  the  surrender  of  Cornwallis  was 
found  among  the  papers  of  General  Knox,  now  in  the  archives 
of  the  Historic  Genealogical  Society.  All  these  are  memorials 
of  great  events,  and  are  of  inestimable  value.  What  is  really 
noticeable  about  the  battle  of  Bennington  is,  that  Baum,  find- 
ing himself  surrounded,  had  strongly  intrenched  himself.  His 
works  were  attacked  and  carried  by  raw  militia,  of  whom 
Baum  took  little  note  because  they  Avere  in  their  shirt-sleeves. 
He  held  his  adversaries  cheaply  and  paid  dearly  for  his  confi- 
dence.    Of  Stark  he  doubtless  thought  as  one 

"  That  never  set  a  squadron  in  the  field, 
Nor  the  division  of  a  battle  knows 
More  than  a  spinster. " 

The  Bennington  prisoners  arrived  at  Boston  on  Friday,  Sep- 
tember 5,  1777,  and  were  confined  on  board  guard-ships  in 
the  harbor.  Some  of  the  officers  were  permitted  to  quarter 
in  farm-houses  along  the  route,  where  they  soon  had  tlje 
melancholy  pleasure  of  welcoming  their  brethren  of  the  main 
army. 

Of  the  Hessians  confined  on  board  the  guard-ships,  ten 
made  their  escape  on  the  night  of  the  26tli  of  October,  in  a 
most  daring  manner.  Having,  through  the  connivance  of  their 
friends  outside,  obtained  a  boat,  in  which  arms  were  provided, 
they  boarded  the  sloop  Julia  off  the  Hardings,  took  possession 
of  her,  and  bore  away  for  the  southward,  expecting,  no  doubt, 
to  fall  in  with  some  of  the  enemy's  vessels  of  war  in  Long 
Island  Sound. 

Some  of   the   guns    captured  at  Bennington  by  Stark  fell 


THE   PLANTATION   AT   MYSTIC    SIDE.  129 

again  into  British  possession  at  the  surrender  of  Detroit.  The 
inscriptions  were  read  with  much  curiosity  by  the  captors,  who 
observed  that  they  would  now  add  a  line  to  the  liistory.  The 
British  officer  of  the  day  directed  the  evening  salutes  to  be  fired 
from  them.  When  Stark  heard  of  the  loss  of  his  guns  he  was 
much  incensed.  These  pieces  again  became  American  at  the 
capture  of  Fort  George.  Two  of  the  lightest  metal  were  pre- 
sented by  Congress  to  the  State  of  Vermont. 

In  1819  Stark  was  still  living,  the  last  survivor  of  the 
American  generals  of  the  Eevolution.  His  recollections  were 
tJien  more  distinct  in  relation  to  the  events  of  the  Old  French 
War  than  of  that  for  independence.  Bunker  Hill,  Trenton, 
and  Bennington  should  be  inscribed  upon  his  tomb. 

^ot  long  after  his  arrival  at  the  camp  General  Lee  took  up 
his  quarters  in  the  Boyall  mansion,  whose  echoing  corridors 
suggested  to  his  fancy  the  name  of  Hobgoblin  Hall.  But 
Washington,  as  elsewhere  related,  caused  him  to  remove  to  a 
point  nearer  his  command.  After  Lee,  Sullivan,  attracted  no 
doubt  by  the  superior  comforts  of  the  old  country-seat,  unwa- 
rily fell  into  the  same  error.  He,  too,  was  remanded  to  his 
brigade  by  the  chief,  who  knew  the  impulsive  Sullivan  would 
not  readily  forgive  himself  if  anything  befell  the  left  wing 
of  the  army  in  his  absence.  In  these  two  cases  Washington 
exhibited  his  adhesion  to  the  maxim  that  a  general  should 
sleep  among  his  troops. 

The  Eoyall  mansion  came,  in  1810,  into  the  possession  of 
Jacob  Tidd,  in  whose  family  it  remained  half  a  century,  until 
its  identity  with  the  old  royalist  had  become  merged  in  the  new 
proprietor.  It  has  been  subsequently  owned  by  George  L. 
Barr  and  by  George  C.  Nichols,  who  at  present  occupies  it. 
The  Tidd  House  is  the  name  by  which  it  is  now  known,  and 
all  old  citizens  have  a  presentiment  that  it  Avill  not  much  longer 
retain  a  foothold  among  its  modern  neighbors.  The  surveyor 
has  appeared  on  the  scene  with  compass  and  level.  Only  one 
of  the  granite  gate-posts  remains  in  the  driveway,  while  the 
stumps  of  the  once  splendid  elms,  planted  by  Hoyall,  lie  scat- 
tered about. 


130       HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

Nothing  goes  to  our  heart  more  than  to  see  one  of  these 
gigantic  old  trees,  which  it  has  cost  a  century  to  grow,  struck 
down  in  an  hour ;  but  when  whole  ranks  of  them  are  swept 
away,  how  quickly  the  scene  changes  from  picturesque  beauty 
to  insignificance  !  At  the  forks  of  every  road  leading  into  their 
villages  the  old  settlers  were  wont  to  plant  an  elm,  Avhere 
weary  travellers  and  footsore  beasts  might,  in  time,  gather  under 
its  spreading  branches,  sheltered  from  the  burning  rays  of  the 
noonday  sun.  In  the  market-place,  too,  they  dug  their  wells, 
but  planted  the  tree  beside.  Many  of  these  yet  remain ;  and  if 
in  any  one  thing  oar  T^ew  England  towns  may  claim  jire-emi- 
nence,  it  is  in  the  beauty  of  these  trees, — the  admiration  of  every 
beholder,  the  gigantic  fans  that  cool  and  purify  the  air  around 
our  habitations.  Dickens,  no  mean  observer,  said  our  country- 
houses,  in  their  spruce  tidiness,  their  white  paint,  and  green 
blinds,  looked  like  houses  built  of  cards,  which  a  breath  might 
blow  away,  so  fragile  and  unsubstantial  did  they  appear. 
Header,  if  you  could  stand  upon  one  of  those  blufts  that  rise 
out  of  our  Western  prairies,  like  headlands  out  of  the  ocean, 
and,  after  looking  down  upon  the  town  at  your  feet,  wellnigh 
treeless  and  blistering  in  the  sun,  could  then  descend  into  the 
brown  and  dusty  streets,  and  note  the  care  bestowed  upon  the 
growth  of  a  few  puny  poplars  or  maples,  you  would  come  back 
to  your  New  England  home,  all  glorious  in  its  luxuriance  and 
wealth  of  every  form  of  forest  beauty,  prepared  to  make  the 
destruction  of  one  of  these  ancestral  elms  a  penal  offence. 

"  God  the  first  garden  made,  and  the  first  city  Cain  !  " 

Medford  possesses  other  elements  of  attraction  to  the  anti- 
quary besides  its  old  houses.  Until  Maiden  Bridge  was  built 
the  great  tide  of  travel  north  and  east  passed  through  the  town. 
The  visitor  now  finds  it  a  very  staid,  quiet  sort  of  place.  Travel 
has  so  changed  both  its  mode  and  its  channels  that  we  can 
form  little  idea  of  a  country  highway  even  fifty  years  ago. 
Travellers  of  every  condition  then  pursued  their  route  by  the 
public  roads  :  the  wealthy  or  well-to-do  generally  in  chaises 
or  phaetons  ;  the  professional  gentleman  on  horseback,  —  a  cus- 


THE   PLANTATION    AT    MYSTIC    SIDE.  liU 

torn  so  graceful  and  health-giving  that  we  should  not  be  sorry 
to  see  its  revival  in  N^ew  England.  Wliole  families  —  men, 
women,  and  even  little  (children  —  passed  and  repassed  on  foot, 
carrying  with  them  their  scanty  eflects.  Then  there  was  the 
mail-coach,  —  a  pviffy,  groaning  vehicle,  bulging  out  at  the  top 
and  sides,  and  hung  on  thoroughbraces.  On  a  rough  roatl  it 
lurched  hke  a  Chinese  junk  in  a  heavy  sea-way,  and  the  pas- 
sengers not  unfrequently  provided  themselves  with  brandy, 
lemons,  and  other  palliatives  against  sea-sickness.  Besides  these 
well-marked  constituents  of  the  stream,  a  nondescript  element 
of  stragglers  drifted  along  the  edges  of  the  current  until  caught 
in  some  eddy  which  cast  them  up  at  the  tavern  door. 

The  public  inn  then  had  a  relative  importance  to  the  world 
of  wayfarers  that  is  not  now  represented  by  any  brown-stone  or 
marble  front  hotel.  The  distances  from  Boston  in  every  direc- 
tion were  reckoned  to  the  taverns.  The  landlord  was  a  man  of 
note.  He  was  the  village  newsmonger,  oracle,  and  referee  in 
all  disputes.  When  he  had  a  full  house  his  guests  were  dis- 
tributed about  the  floors,  and  the  dining-table  commanded  a 
premium.  The  charge  for  meals  or  for  baiting  a  horse  was 
a  quarter  of  a  dollar.  If  the  world  moved  then  more  slowly 
than  it  now  does,  it  was  not  the  less  content. 

The  tavern  was  also  the  political  centre  where  caucuses  were 
held  and  the  state  of  the  country  discussed.  It  was  ofttimes 
there  town-meetings  were  convened,  and  in  war  times  it  was 
the  recruiting  rendezvous.  Proclamations,  notices  of  that  mul- 
tifarious character  pertaining  to  the  interior  economy  of  the 
village,  from  the  reward  for  the  apprehension  of  a  thief  to  the 
loss  of  a  favorite  brooch,  were  aflixed  to  the  bar-room  walls. 
The  smell  of  old  Santa  Cruz  or  other  strong  waters  saluted  the 
nostrils  of  all  who  entered  the  public  room,  and  yet  there  was 
caU  for  neither  fumigation  nor  exorcism.  The  mail-coach, 
which  only  stopped  to  change  horses,  occupied  forty-eight  hours 
in  going  over  this  route  from  Boston  to  Portland.  Concord 
coaches  succeeded  the  old  English  pattern,  and  still  traverse 
here  and  there  a  few  byways  into  which  the  railway  disdains 
to  turn  aside. 


132       HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

The  mail-coach,  too,  bore  its  fixed  relation  to  the  population 
along  the  line.  It  marked  the  time  of  day  for  the  laborers  in 
the  helds,  who  leaned  on  hoe  or  scythe  until  it  was  lost  to 
view.  The  plough  stopped  in  the  furrow,  the  smith  rested  his 
sledge  on  his  anvil,  while  the  faces  of  young  and  old  were  glued 
to  the  window-panes  as  this  moving  piece  of  the  far-away 
metropolis  rolled  along.  Entering  the  town,  the  driver  cracked 
his  whip,  his  leaders  sprang  out  into  a  brisker  gait,  and  the 
lumbering  vehicle  drew  up  with  a  flourish  beside  the  tavern 
door. 

The  lirst  of  the  Medford  ordinaries,  so  far  as  known,  goes 
back  to  about  1690,  Nathaniel  Pierce  being  mine  host.  The 
General  Court  licensed  him  to  sell  not  less  than  a  gallon  of 
liquor  at  a  time  to  one  person,  and  prohibited  the  sale  of 
smaller  quantities  by  retail.  The  house  was  at  one  time  owned 
by  Colonel  Royall,  being  known  at  different  times  by  the  name 
of  the  "Royal  Oak"  and  "Admiral  Vernon."  In  1775  it 
became  the  Revolutionary  headquarters,  kept  by  Roger  Billings, 
and  was  long  afterward  the  principal  tavern  in  the  town.  The 
house  stood  on  the  corner  of  Main  and  Union  Streets,  and  was 
destroyed  by  fire  in  1850. 

The  old  Fountain  Tavern,  so  called  from  its  sign  representing 
a  fountain  pouring  forth  punch,  is  still  standing  on  the  old 
Salem  road,  at  the  corner  of  Fountain  Street.  Brooks,  in  his 
History  of  Medford,  says  it  was  flrst  called  the  "  Two  Palaverers." 
The  two  large  trees  in  front  had  each  a  platform  in  its  branches, 
connected  with  each  other  and  with  the  house  by  wooden 
bridges:  In  summer  these  retreats  were  resorted  to  by  the 
guests  for  tea-parties  or  punch-drinking.  The  house  was  built 
in  1725,  and  is  extremely  unique  in  appearance. 

The  name  of  Medford  is  known  in  every  seaport  under  the 
sun  for  its  stanch  and  well-built  ships.  Of  the  thousands  that 
float  the  ocean  bearing  any  flag  aloft,  none  sail  more  proudly 
than  those  of  Curtis  or  Magoun.  This  industry,  which  has 
dated  from  the  time  when  Englishmen  first  set  foot  on  the 
shores  of  the  Mystic,  has  of  late  years  fallen  into  decay,  but 
once  more  the  familiar  sound   of  the   shipwright's   beetle  is 


THE    PLANTATION    AT   MYSTIC    SIDE.  133 

beginning  to  be  heard  on  its  banks.  Cradock  sent  over  skilled 
artisans,  who  at  once  laid  down  the  keels  that  have  increased  so 
prodigiously.  Although  we  are  told  his  men  had  a  vessel  of  a 
hundred  tons  on  the  stocks  in  1632,  the  earlier  craft  were  chiefly 
pinnaces,  galleys,  and  snows,  —  the  latter  being  rigged  some- 
what after  the  fashion  of  our  barks.  Xo  branch  of  mechani- 
cal skill  appears  to  have  developed  with  such  rapidity  in  IS'e^^^ 
England  as  shipbuilding.  The  timber,  which  is  now  brought 
hundreds  of  miles  to  the  yards,  then  grew  along  the  shores. 
We  now  bring  the  keel  from  Virginia,  the  frame  from  the  Guli 
States,  and  the  masts  from  Canada.  New  England,  which  does 
not  furnish  a  single  product  entering  into  the  construction  of 
the  ship,  forges  the  anchor  which  holds  her  to  the  bottom; 
twists  the  hemp  into  shrouds,  rigging,  and  those  spiders'-webs 
aloft  whose  intricacies  confound  the  eye ;  spins  the  cotton  which 
hangs  from  the  yards,  and  weaves  the  colors  that  float  at  the 
mast-head. 

In  the  public  square  of  Medford  is  an  excellent  specimen  of 
the  architecture  of  the  last  century,  now  occupied  as  a  tavern, 
but  originally  a  dwelling.  A  few  rods  distant  in  a  westerly 
direction  is  still  standing,  in  tolerable  repair,  the  house  which 
Governor  Brooks  inhabited,  and  at  the  corner  is  the  stone 
where  he  was  accustomed  to  mount  his  horse.  A  plain  granite 
shaft  is  erected  over  the  remains  of  this  distinguished  soldier 
and  civilian  in  the  old  burial-ground.  Behind  the  governor's 
house,  on  a  rising  ground,  is  one  of  the  early  garrison-houses, 
built  of  brick,  and  looking  none  the  worse  for  its  long  conflict 
with  wind  and  weather.  It  is  owned  by  Daniel  Lawrence, 
beside  whose  elegant  mansion  it  stands  conspicuous,  a  foil  to 
the  symmetry  and  gracefulness  of  modern  art. 

As  a  soldier  Governor  Brooks  appeared  to  his  greatest  ad- 
vantage in  the  battle  of  Bemis's  Heights,  where  he  was  in  com- 
mand of  the  old  Eighth,  Michael  Jackson's  regiment.  His  own 
relation  of  the  incidents  of  that  day  to  General  Sumner  is  not, 
even  now,  devoid  of  interest. 

"  On  the  7th  of  October,  the  day  of  the  last  battle  with  General 
Burgoyne,  General  Arnold  and  several  otiicers  dined  with  General 


134       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

Gates.  I  was  among  the  company,  and  well  remember  that  one  of 
the  dishes  was  an  ox's  heart.  While  at  table  we  heard  a  firing  from 
the  advanced  picket.  The  armies  were  about  two  miles  from  each 
other.  The  firing  uicreasing,  we  all  rose  from  table  ;  and  General 
Arnold,  addressing  General  Gates,  said,  '  Shall  I  go  out  and  see 
what  is  the  matter  ? '  General  Gates  made  no  reply,  but  upon  being 
pressed,  said,  '  I  am  afraid  to  trust  you,  Arnold.'  To  which  Arnold 
answered,  '  Pray  let  me  go  ;  I  will  be  careful  ;  and  if  oui"  advance 
does  not  need  support,  I  will  promise  not  to  commit  you.'  Gates 
then  told  him  he  might  go  and  see  what  the  firing  meant." 

Colonel  Brooks  repaired  to  his  post,  and  under  the  impetuous 
Arnold,  who  seemed  fully  imbued  on  this  day  with  the  rcif/e 
militaire,  stormed  Breyman's  Fort,  and  thus  mastered  the  key 
to  the  enemy's  position.  Arnold,  once  in  action,  forgot  his 
promise  to  Gates,  who  vainly  endeavored  to  recall  him  from 
the  field.  Had  his  life  been  laid  down  there,  his  name  would 
have  been  as  much  revered  as  it  is  now  contemned  by  his 
countrymen. 

The  object  of  paramount  interest  which  Medford  contains  is 
the  plantation  house  of  Governor  Cradock,  or  "  Mathias  Char- 
terparty,"  as  the  malcontent  Morton  styled  him.  This  house  is 
the  monarch  of  all  those  now  existing  in  North  America.  As  we 
trace  a  family  back  generation  after  generation  until  \ve  bring 
all  collateral  branches  to  one  common  source  in  tlie  first  colo- 
nist, so  we  go  from  one  old  house  to  another  until  w^  finally 
come  to  a  pause  before  this  patriarch  hy  the  sea.  It  is  the 
handiwork  of  the  first  planters  in  the  vicinity  of  Boston,  and 
is  one  of  the  first,  if  not  the  very  first,  of  the  brick  houses 
erected  w^ithin  the  government  of  John  Winthrop. 

Every  man,  Avoman,  and  child  in  Medford  knows  the  "  Old 
Fort,"  as  the  older  inhabitants  love  to  call  it,  and  will  point 
you  to  the  site  Avith  visible  pride  that  their  pleasant  town 
contains  so  interesting  a  relic.  Turning  your  back  upon  the 
village,  and  your  face  to  the  east,  a  brisk  walk  of  ten  minutes 
along  the  banks  of  the  Mystic,  and  you  are  in  presence  of  the 
object  of  your  search. 

A  very  brief  survey  estabhshes  the  fact  that  this  was  one  of 


THE    PLANTATION    AT   MYSTIC    SIDE.  135 

those  houses  of  refuge  scattered  through  the  New  England 
settlements,  into  which  the  inhabitants  might  fly  for  safety 
upon  any  sudden  alarm  of  danger  from  the  savages. 

The  situation  was  well  chosen  for  security.  It  has  the  river 
in  front,  marshes  to  the  eastward,  and  a  considerable  extent  of 
level  meadow  behind  it.  As  it  was  from  this  latter  quarter 
that  an  attack  was  most  to  be  apprehended,  greater  precautions 
were  taken  to  secure  that  side.  The  house  itself  is  placed 
a  little  above  the  general  level.  Standing  for  a  century  and  a 
half  in  the  midst  of  an  extensive  and  open  field,  enclosed  by 
palisades,  and  guarded  with  gates,  a  foe  could  not  approach  un- 
seen by  day,  nor  find  a  vantage-ground  from  which  to  assail  the 
inmates.  Here,  then,  the  agents  of  Matthew  Cradock,  first 
Governor  of  the  Massachusetts  Company  in  England,  built  the 
house  we  are  describing. 

In  the  office  of  the  Secretary  of  the  Commonwealth,  at  Bos- 
ton, hangs  the  charter  of  "  The  Governor  and  Company  of  the 
Massachusetts  Bay  in  New  England,"  brought  over  by  Win- 
throp  in  1630.  The  great  seal  of  England,  a  most  ponderous 
and  convincing  symbol  of  authority,  is  appended  to  it. 

It  is  well  known  that  the  settlement  at  Salem,  two  years 
earlier,  under  the  leadership  of  Endicott,  was  begun  by  a  com- 
mercial company  in  England,  of  which  Matthew  Cradock  was 
Governor.  In  order  to  secure  the. emigration  of  such  men  as 
Winthrop,  Dudley,  Sir  R.  Saltonstall,  Johnson,  and  others, 
Cradock  proposed,  in  July,  1629,  to  transfer  the  government 
from  the  company  in  England  to  the  inhabitants  here.  As  he 
was  the  wealthiest  and  most  influential  person  in  the  associa- 
tion, his  proposal  was  acceded  to. 

We  cannot  enter,  here,  into  the  political  aspects  of  this 
coup  detat.  It  must  ever  arrest  the  attention  and  challenge  the 
admiration  of  the  student  of  American  history.  In  defiance 
of  the  crown,  whi(;h  had  merely  organized  them  into  a  mer- 
cantile corporation,  like  the  East  India  Company,  with  officers 
resident  in  England,  they  proceeded  to  nullify  the  clear  intent 
of  their  charter  by  removing  the  government  to  America.  The 
project  was  first  mooted  by  Cradock,  and  secrecy  enjoined  upon 


136       HISTORIC   FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

the  members  of  the  company.  That  he  was  the  avowed  author 
of  it  must  be  our  apology  for  introducing  the  incident.  This 
circumstance  renders  Matthew  Cradock's  name  conspicuous  in 
the  annals  of  l^ew  England. 

Cradock  never  came  to  America,  but  there  is  little  doubt  that 
he  entertained  the  purpose  of  doing  so.  He  sent  over,  how- 
ever, agents,  or  "  servants,"  as  they  were  styled,  who  estal)- 
lished  the  plantation  at  Mystic  Side.  He  also  had  houses  at 
Ipswich  and  at  Marblehead,  for  hshery  and  traffic. 

For  a  shrewd  man  of  business  Cradock  seems  to  have  been 
singularly  unfortunate  in  some  of  his  servants.  One  of  these, 
Phihp  Ratcliff,  being  convicted  '' or-e  tenus  of  most  foul  and 
slanderous  invectives "  against  the  churches  and  government, 
was  sentenced  to  be  whipped,  lose  his  ears,  and  be  banished  the 
plantation.  Winthrop  was  complained  of  by  Dudley  because 
he  stayed  the  execution  of  the  sentence  of  banishment,  but 
answered  that  it  was  on  the  score  of  humanity,  as  it  was  winter 
and  the  man  must  have  j^erished.  liatcliff  afterwards,  in  con- 
junction with  Thomas  Morton  and  Sir  Christopher  Gardiner, 
procured  a  petition  to  the  Lords  of  the  Privy  Council,  before 
whom  Cradock  was  summoned. 

Morton,  who  was  sent  away  to  England  for  his  mad  pranks 
and  contempt  of  Puritan  authority,  wrote  as  follows  of  this 
examination  :  — 

''  My  Lord  Canterbury  having  with  my  Lord  Privy  Seal  caused  all 
Mr.  Cradock's  letters  to  be  viewed,  and  his  apology  in  particular  for 
the  brethren  here,  protested  against  him  and  Mr.  Humfry  [another 
of  the  undertakers]  that  they  were  a  couple  of  iniposterous  knaves, 
so  that  for  all  their  great  friends  they  departed  the  council  cliand^er 
in  our  \'iew  with  a  pair  of  cold  shoulders. 

"  As  for  Ratcliff,  he  was  comforted  by  their  lordships  with  tlie 
croppings  of  Mr.  Winthrop's  ears,  which  shows  what  opinion  is  held 
among  them  of  King  Winthrop  with  all  his  inventions  and  his 
Amsterdam  fantastical  ordinances,  his  preachings,  marriages,  and 
other  aVnisive  ceremonies,  which  do  exemplify  his  detestation  of  the 
Church  of  England  and  the  contempt  of  his  majesty's  authority  and 
wholesome  .laws  which  are  and  will  be  established  here  invita 
Minerva." 


THE   PLANTATION   AT   MYSTIC    SIDE.  137 

In  the  letter  to  Winthrop  which  follows,  printed  in  the 
Massachusetts  Historical  Society's  Collections,  the  old  merchant 
complains  bitterly  of  the  conduct  of  another  of  his  agents  :  — 

"  London  21  Febr.  1636. 
"  Jno,  Joliff  writes  mee  the  manner  of  Mr  Mayheues  accounts  is, 
that  what  is  not  sett  down  is  spent  ;  most  extremely  I  am  abused. 
My  seruants  write  they  drinke  nothing  but  water  &  I  haue  in  an 
account  lately  sent  me  Eed  Wyne,  Sack  &  Aqua  Vitae  in  one 
yeere  aboue  300  gallons,  besides  many  other  intollerable  abuses,  10  I 
for  tobacco  etc.  My  papers  are  misselayd  but  if  you  call  for  the 
coppyes  of  the  accounts  sent  me  and  examine  vppon  what  ground  it 
is  made  you  shall  find  I  doubt  all  but  forged  stuffe. 

"  Mathewe  Cradock." 

Wood,  one  of  the  early  chroniclers,  tells  us  that  Master 
Cradock  had  a  park  impaled  at  Mystic,  where  his  cattle  were 
kept  until  it  could  be  stocked  with  deer ;  and  that  he  also  was 
engaged  in  shipbuilding,  a  vessel  of  a  "  hundred  tunne  "  having 
been  built  the  previous  year  (1632).  It  may  be,  too,  that 
Cradock's  artisans  built  here  for  Wintlirop  the  little  "  Blessing 
of  the  Bay,"  launched  upon  the  Mystic  tide  July  4,  1631,  —  an 
event  usually  located  at  the  governor's  farm,  at  Ten  Hills. 

This  house,  a  unique  specimen  of  the  architecture  of  the 
early  settlers,  nmst  be  considered  a  gem  of  its  kind.  It  is  not 
disguised  by  modern  alterations  in  any  essential  feature,  but 
bears  its  credentials  on  its  face.  Two  hundred  and  thirty  odd 
^N'ew  England  winters  have  searched  every  cranny  of  the  old 
fortress,  whistled  down  the  big  chimney-stacks,  rattled  the  win- 
dow-panes in  impotent  rage,  and,  departing,  certified  to  us  the 
stanch  and  trusty  handiwork  of  Cradock's  English  craftsmen. 

Time  has  dealt  gently  with  this  venerable  relic.  Like  a 
veteran  of  many  campaigns,  it  shows  a  few  honorable  scars. 
The  roof  has  swerved  a  little  from  its  true  outline.  It  has  been 
denuded  of  a  chimney,  and  has  parted  reluctantly  with  a  dormer- 
window.  The  loopholes,  seen  in  the  front,  were  long  since 
closed ;  '  the  race  they  were  to  defend  against  has  hardly  an 
existence  to-day.      The  windows  have  been  enlarged,  with  an 


138       HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

efifect  on  the  ensemble,  as  Hawthorne  says  in  a  similar  case,  of 
rouging  the  cheeks  of  one's  grandmother.  Hoary  with  age,  it 
is  yet  no  ruin,  but  a  comfortable  habitation. 

How  many  generations  of  men  —  and  our  old  house  has  sel- 
dom if  ever  been  untenanted  —  have  lived  and  died  wdtliin 
those  walls  !  When  it  was  built  Charles  I.  reigned  in  Old  Eng- 
land, and  Oomwell  had  not  begun  his  great  career.  Peter  the 
Great  was  not  then  born,  and  the  house  was  waxing  in  years 
when  Frederick  the  (xreat  appeared  on  the  stage.  We  seem  to 
be  speaking  of  recent  events  when  Louis  XVI.  suffered  by  the 
axe  of  the  guillotine,  and  Napoleon's  sun  rose  in  splendor,  to 
set  in  obscurity. 

The  Indian,  who  witnessed  its  slowly  ascending  walls  with 
wonder  and  misgiving ;  the  Englishman,  whose  axe  wakened 
new  echoes  in  the  primeval  forest ;  the  colonist  native  to  the 
soil,  who  battled  and  died  within  view,  to  found  a  new  nation, 
—  all  have  passed  away.  But  here,  in  this  old  mansion,  is  the 
silent  evidence  of  those  great  epochs  of  history. 

It  is  not  clear  at  what  time  the  house  was  erected,  but  it  has 
usually  been  fixed  in  the  year  1634,  when  a  large  grant  of  land 
was  made  to  Cradock  by  the  General  Court.  TIh^  bricks  are 
said  to  have  been  burned  near  by.  There  was  some  attempt  at 
ornament,  the  lower  course  of  the  belt  being  laid  with  moulded 
bricks  so  as  to  form  a  cornice.  The  loopholes  were  for  defence. 
The  walls  were  half  a  yard  in  thickness.  Heavy  iron  bars 
secured  the  arched  windows  at  the  back,  and  the  entrance-door 
was  encased  in  iron.  The  lire-proof  closets,  huge  chimney- 
stacks,  and  massive  hewn  timbers  told  of  strength  and  dura- 
bility. A  single  pane  of  glass,  set  in  iron,  and  placed  in  the 
back  wall  of  the  western  chimney,  overlooked  the  a])proach 
from  the  town. 

The  builders  were  Englishmen,  and,  of  course,  followed  their 
English  types.  They  named  their  towns  and  villages  after  the 
sounding  nomenclature  of  Old  England;  what  more  natural 
than  that  they  should  wish  their  homes  to  resemble  those  they 
had  left  behind  ?  Such  a  house  might  have  served  an  inhabi- 
tant of  the  Scottish  border,  with  its  loopholes,  narrow  windows. 


THE    PLANTATION    AT   MYSTIC    SIDE.  139 

and  doors  sheathed  in  iron.     Against  an  Indian  foray  it  was 
impregnable. 

Cradock  was  about  the  only  man  connected  with  the  settle- 
ment in  Massachusetts  Bay  whose  means  admitted  of  such  a 
house.  lioth  Winthrop  and  Dudley  built  of  wood,  and  the 
former  rebuked  the  deputy  for  what  he  thought  an  unreason- 
able expense  in  finishing  his  own  house.  Many  brick  buildings 
were  erected  in  Boston  during  the  first  decade  of  the  settlement, 
but  we  have  found  none  that  can  claim  such  an  ancient  pedi- 
gree as  this  of  which  we  are  writing.  It  is  far  from  improbable 
that,  having  in  view  a  future  residence  in  New  England, 
Cradock  may  have  given  directions  for  or  prescribed  the  plan 
of  this  house,  and  that  it  may  have  been  the  counterpart  of  his 
own  in  St.  Swithen's  Lane,  near  London  Stone. 

"  Then  went  I  forth  l)y  London  Stone 
Throughout  all  Can  wick  Street." 

The  plantation,  with  its  green  meadows  and  its  stately  forest- 
trees,  was  a  manor  of  which  Cradock  was  lord  and  master.  His 
grant  extended  a  mile  into  the  country  from  the  river-side  in 
all  places.  Though  absent,  he  was  considered  nominally  pres- 
ent, and  is  constantly  aUuded  to  by  name  in  the  early  records. 
Cradock  was  a  member  of  the  Long  Parliament,  dying  in  1641. 
The  euphonious  name  of  Mystic  has  been  supplanted  by  Med- 
ford,  the  Meadford  of  Dudley  and  the  rest. 

It  is  not  to  be  expected  that  a  structure  belonging  to  so  re- 
mote a  period,  for  New  England,  should  be  without  its  legend- 
ary lore.  It  is  related  that  the  old  fort  was  at  one  time 
beleaguered  for  several  days  by  an  Indian  war-party,  who  at 
length  retired  baffled  from  the  strong  walls  and  death-shots  of 
the  garrison.  As  a  veracious  historian,  we  are  compelled  to  add 
that  we  know  of  no  authentic  data  of  such  an  occurrence. 
Indians  were  plenty  enough  in  tlie  vicinity,  and,  though  gen- 
erally peaceful,  they  were  regarded  with  more  or  less  distrust. 
The  settlers  seldom  stirred  abroad  without  their  trusty  match- 
locks and  well-filled  bandoleer.  We  cannot  give  a  better  pic- 
ture of  the  times  than  by  invoking  the  aid  of  MacEingal :  — 


140       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

"  For  once,  for  fear  of  Indian  beating, 
Our  grandsires  bore  their  guns  to  meeting; 
Each  man  equipped  on  Simday  morn 
With  psalm-book,  shot,  and  powder-horn ; 
And  looked  in  form,  as  all  must  grant. 
Like  the  ancient,  true  church  militant; 
Or  fierce,  like  modern  deep  divines, 
Who  fight  with  quills,  like  porcupines." 

Mter  standing  stoutly  up  in  presence  of  so  many  mutations, 
one  of  the  gateways  through  which  the  little  human  stream 
trickled  that  has  inundated  all  the  land  in  its  mighty  expan- 
sion, we  are  told  that  this  house  is  doomed.  It  no  longer 
accommodates  itself  to  modern  ideas,  and  must  fall.  The  re- 
gret that  the  Commonwealth  ever  parted  with,  even  to  a  noble 
charity,  the  old  mansion-house  of  the  provincial  governors  was 
by  no  means  trifling  or  inconsiderate.  That  error  might  now 
be  retrieved  by  the  purchase  of  the  house  of  the  first  governor 
of  Massachusetts.  Every  officer,  civil  or  military,  that  holds  a 
commission  by  State  authority,  derives  it  in  a  certain  sense 
from  Matthew  Cradock.  He  made  the  first  move  to  erect  an 
independent  community  on  our  shores.  This  house  is  his 
monument.  It  should  be  allowed  to  stand  where  it  has  stood 
for  near  two  hundred  and  forty  years.  Its  loopholes  should  be 
restored,  and  the  whole  house  set  in  order  and  furnished  with 
the  memorials  of  its  own  time.  A  custodian  might  be  placed 
there,  and  the  small  fee  charged  for  exhibition  be  used  to  defray 
the  expense.  At  all  events,  Medford  should  see  to  it  this 
ancient  structure  is  preserved  to  her. 


lee's  headquarteks  and  vicinity.  141 


CHAPTER    VII. 

lee's  headquarters  and  vicinity, 

*'  Night  closed  around  the  conqueror's  way, 
And  lightnings  showed  the  distant  hill, 
Where  those  who  lost  that  dreadful  day 
Stood  few  and  faint,  but  fearless  still." 

DESCENDI:N'G  into  the  valley  between  Winter  and  Pros- 
pect HiUs,  any  search  for  traces  of  the  works  which  existed 
here  in  1775-76  would  be  fruitless;  every  vestige  had  disap- 
peared fifty  years  ago.  The  site  of  the  star  fort  laid  down  on  the 
map  was  a  Httle  north  of  Medford  Street  and  east  of  Walnut 
Street.  The  structure  of  the  ground  shows  that  there  was  once 
a  considerable  elevation  here,  which  commanded  the  approach 
by  the  low  land  between  Prospect,  Winter,  and  Ploughed  Hills. 

On  the  little  byway  now  dignified  with  the  name  of  Syca- 
more Street  stands  the  old  farm-house  which  was  the  headquar- 
ters for  a  time  of  General  Charles  Lee.  Its  present  occupant  is 
Oliver  Tufts,  whose  father,  John  Tufts,  resided  there  in  Revo- 
lutionary times,  and  planted  with  his  own  hands  the  beautiful 
elm  that  now  stretches  its  protecting  branches  over  the  old 
homestead. 

When  the  house  was  occupied  by  the  mercurial  Lee  it  had 
one  of  those  long  pitched  roofs  descending  to  a  single  story  at 
the  back,  and  which  are  still  occasionally  met  with  in  our  in- 
terior New  England  towns.  The  elder  Tufts  altered  the  exterior 
to  what  we  now  see  it ;  and  although  the  date  of  the  erection 
of  the  house,  which  once  sheltered  so  notable  an  occupant,  has 
not  remained  extant  in  the  family,  it  evidently  belongs  to  the 
earlier  years  of  the  eighteenth  century. 

The  name  and  career  of  Charles  Lee  are  not  the  least  inter- 
esting subjects  in  our  Revolutionary  annals.     A  mystery,  not 


142        HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

wholly  cleared  away,  has  enshrouded  the  concluding  incidents 
of  Lee's  connection  with  the  American  army.  Whether  the 
name  of  traitor  is  to  accompany  his  memory  to  posterity  or  not, 
there  is  no  question  that  he  was  at  the  beginning  of  the  con- 
test a  zealous  partisan  of  the  American  cause.  It  is  in  this  light 
we  prefer  to  consider  him. 

When  Lee  came  to  join  the  forces  assembled  around  Boston 
he  was  certainly  regarded,  in  respect  to  mihtary  skill,  as  tlie 
foremost  man  in  the  army.  His  experience  had  been  acquired 
on  the  same  fields  with  the  men  he  was  now  to  oppose,  and  it 
is  evident  that  neither  Gage,  Howe,  Clinton,  nor  Burgoyne 
underrated  his  ability. 

In  a  "  separate  and  secret  despatch  "  Lord  Dartmouth  wrote 
to  General  Gage  to  have  a  special  eye  on  Lee,  whose  presence 
in  Boston  in  the  autumn  of  1774  was  known  to  his  lordship. 
Lord  Dartmouth's  letter  says  :  — 

"  I  am  told  that  M^  Lee,  a  major  upon  half  pay  with  the  rank 
of  Lieut  Colonel,  has  lately  appeared  at  Boston,  that  he  associates 
only  with  the  enemies  of  government,  that  he  encourages  the  dis- 
content of  the  people  l)y  harangues  and  publications,  and  even 
advises  to  arms.  This  gentleman's  general  character  cannot  be  un- 
known to  you,  and  therefore  it  will  be  very  proper  that  you  should 
have  attention  to  his  conduct,  and  take  every  legal  method  to  pre- 
vent his  effecting  any  of  those  dangerous  purposes  he  is  said  to  have 
in  view." 

General  Lee  was  five  feet  eight,  and  of  rather  slender  make, 
but  with  unlimited  powers  of  endurance,  as  was  fully  proved 
in  his  rapid  movements  from  Boston  to  New  York,  and  from 
New  York  to  the  defence  of  the  Southern  seaports.  His  capa- 
city to  resist  fatigue  was  thorouglily  tested  at  Monmouth,  the 
only  instance  recorded  where  he  admitted  that  he  was  tired  out. 
Lee  had  visited  most  of  the  courts  of  Europe,  and  was  a  good 
linguist.  He  wrote  well,  but  rather  diffusely  ;  and  although 
his  language  is  marred  by  a  certain  coarseness,  it  is  not  con- 
spicuously so  when  compared  wdth  that  of  his  contemporaries 
in  the  profession  of  arms. 

•'  And  more  than  thakhe  can-speak  French,  and  therefore  he  is  a  traitor." 


lee's  headquarters  and  vicinity.  143 

Lee  had  lived  for  some  time  among  the  Mohawks,  who  made 
him  a  cliief,  and  who,  on  account  of  his  impetuous  temper, 
named  him,  in  their  figurative  and  highly  expressive  way, 
^'  Boiling  AA^ater."  He  was  more  than  half  Indian  in  his  ex- 
treme carelessness  of  his  personal  appearance,  of  what  he  ate  or 
drank,  or  where  he  slept.  He  had  lost  two  fingers  in  a  duel  in 
Italy,  —  one  of  many  personal  encounters  in  which  he  was  en- 
gaged during  his  lifetime.  Lee  was  cool,  clear-headed  in  action, 
and  possessed  true  military  insight.  The  following  is  probably 
an  accurate  pen-portrait  of  this  extraordinary  man  :  — 

"  A  tall  man,  lank  and  thin,  with  a  huge  nose,  a  satirical  mouth, 
and  restless  eyes,  who  sat  his  horse  as  if  he  had  often  ridden  at  fox- 
hunts in  England,  and  wore  his  uniform  with  a  cynical  disregard  of 
common  opinion." 

There  is  a  caricature  of  General  Lee  by  Rushbrooke,  which, 
if  allowed  to  resemble  the  General,  as  it  is  claimed  it  does, 
would  fairly  estabhsh  his  title  to  be  regarded  as  the  ugliest  of 
men,  both  in  form  and  feature.  It  shoidd,  however,  be  con- 
sidered as  a  caricature  and  nothing  else. 

Mrs.  John  Adams,  who  first  met  General  Lee  at  an  evening 
party  at  Major  Mifflin's  house  in  Cambridge,  describes  him  as 
looking  like  a  "  careless,  hardy  veteran,"  who  brought  to  her 
mind  his  namesake,  Charles  XII.  "  The  elegance  of  his  pen 
fiir  exceeds  that  of  his  person  "  says  this  accomplished  lady. 

Lee  was  very  fond  of  dogs,  and  was  constantly  attended  by 
one  or  more ;  his  favorite  being  a  great  shaggy  Pomeranian, 
which  Dr.  Belknap  says  resembled  a  bear  more  than  a  harmless 
canine.  Spada  —  that  was  the  dog's  name  —  was  constantly  at 
his  master's  heels,  and  accompanied  him  in  whatever  company 
he  might  happen  to  be. 

It  appears  from  a  letter  of  John  Adams  to  James  Warren,  — - 
the  then  President  of  the  Provincial  Congress,  —  which  was 
intercepted  by  the  British,  that  Colonel  AVarren  had  no  great 
opinion  of  General  Lee,  for  Mr.  Adams  tells  him  he  must  bear 
with  his  whimsical  manners  and  his  dogs  for  the  sake  of  his 
military  talents.     "  Love  me,  love  my  dog,"  says  Mr.  Adams. 


144       HISTORIC   FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

General  Lee  used  to  relate  with  great  gusto  an  anecdote  of 
one  of  his  aides  who  showed  a  little  trepidation  under  fire,  and 
who  expostulated  with  his  general  for  exposing  himself.  The 
general  told  his  officer  that  his  Prussian  majesty  had  twenty- 
aides  killed  in  one  battle.  The  aide  replied  that  he  did  not 
think  Congress  could  spare  so  many.  Lee's  first  aide-de-camp 
was  Samuel  Griffin,  who  was  succeeded  by  Colonel  William 
Palfrey,  the  same  who  afterwards  served  Washington  in  a  simi- 
lar capacity. 

Lee's  slovenliness  was  the  occasion  of  a  rather  amusing  con- 
tretemps. On  one  of  Washing-ton's  journeys  to  reconnoitre  the 
shores  of  the  bay  he  was  accompanied  by  Lee,  who,  on  arriving 
at  the  house  where  they  were  to  dine,  went  straight  to  the 
kitchen  and  demanded  something  to  eat.  The  cook,  taking  him 
for  a  servant,  told  him  she  would  give  him  some  victuals  di- 
rectly, but  he  must  first  help  her  off  with  the  pot,  —  a  request 
with  which  he  readily  complied.  He  was  then  requested  Ho 
take  a  bucket  and  go  to  the  well  for  water,  and  was  actually 
engaged  in  drawing  it  when  found  by  an  aide  whom  Washing- 
ton had  despatched  in  (][uest  of  him.  The  poor  girl  then  heard 
for  the  first  time  her  assistant  addressed  by  the  title  of  "  gen- 
eral." The  mug  fell  from  her  hands,  and,  dropping  on  her 
knees,  she  began  crying  for  pardon,  when  Lee,  who  was  ever 
ready  to  see  the  impropriety  of  his  own  conduct,  but  never 
willing  to  change  it,  gave  her  a  crown,  and,  turning  to  the 
aide-de-camp,  observed :  "  You  see,  young  man,  the  advantage 
of  a  fine  coat ;  the  man  of  consequence  is  indebted  to  it  for 
respect ;  neither  virtue  nor  abilities  \^dthout  it  will  make  you 
look  like  a  gentleman," 

It  is  somewhat  remarkable  that  most  of  the  officers  of  the 
Revolutionary  army  who  had  seen  service  in  that  of  Great 
Britain,  and  of  whom  so  much  was  expected,  either  left  the 
army  before  the  close  of  the  war  with  damaged  reputations  or 
in  disgrace.  Lee  and  Gates,  who  stood  first  in  the  general 
estimation,  suffered  a  complete  loss  of  favor,  while  the  fame  of 
Schuyler  and  St.  Clair  endured  a  partial  eclipse.  Montgomery 
bravely  fell#before  Quebec.     St.  Clair  married  a  Boston  lady 


lee's  headquarters  and  vicinity.  145 

(Phtjebe   Bayard),  a  relative  of  Governor  Bowdoiii,  and  during 
the  war  placed  his  daughter  in  that  town  to  be  educated. 

In  the  memorable  retreat  through  the  Jerseys  Lee's  conduct 
began  to  be  distrusted.  He  was  perhaps  willing  to  see  Wash- 
ington, whose  life  only  intervened  between  himself  and  the 
supreme  commantl,  defeated  ;  but  we  need  not  go  back  a  cen- 
tury to  find  generals  who  have  been  unwilling  to  support  their 
commanders,  even  when  within  sound  of  their  cannon. 

Lee  had  a  good  private  fortune.  He  was  sanguine  and  lively, 
and  a  martyr  to  gout.  He  was  fearless  and  outspoken,  never 
concealing  his  sentiments  from  any  man,  and  in  every  respect 
was  the  antipodes  of  a  conspirator.  Men,  indeed,  might  say 
of  him, — 

"  Yond'  Cassms  has  a  lean  and  hungry  look. ; 
He  thinks  too  much  ;  such  men  are  dangerous. " 

By  his  brother  officers  he  was  evidently  considered  a  rival  of 
the  commander-in-chief,  but  we  find  no  contemporary  evidence 
that  he  was  looked  upon  as  a  traitor  until  the  day  of  jMon- 
mouth.  The  present  generation,  however,  much  wiser,  has  de- 
creed him  faithless  upon  the  evidence  of  a  manuscript  said  to 
be  in  Lee's  handwriting,  and  purporting  to  be  a  plan  for  sub- 
jugating the  States.  This  precious  document  is  without  date 
or  signature,  but  is  indorsed  by  another  hand,  "  Mr.  Lee's  plan 
—  29th  March,  1777."  At  this  time  the  General  was  a  prisoner 
in  N"ew  York.  The  writing,  which  bears  an  extraordinary  re- 
semblance to  that  of  General  Lee,  is  relied  upon  mainly  to 
convict  him  of  treason. 

The  so-called  proofs  of  the  treachery  of  Lee  have  been  skil- 
fully put  together  by  George  H.  Moore,  but  they  contain  other 
fatal  objections  besides  the  want  of  a  signature-  to  the  "  plan." 
Proof  is  adduced  to  show  that  Lee  was  not  a  general,  and  at  the 
same  time  he  is  accredited  with  having  induced  General  Howe 
to  adopt  his  "  plan  "  and  abandon  one  carefully  matured  by  his 
brother  and  himself,  as  early  as  April  2,  or  four  days  after  the 
date  indorsed  on  the  "  plan."  Moreover,  a  motive  for  Lee's 
defection  is  not  supplied.  He  did  not  want  money,  nor  sell 
himself,  like  Arnold,  for  a  price.  His  fate,  which  at  one  time  had 
7  T 


146       HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

trembled  in  the  balance,  —  the  king  had  ordered  him  sent  home 
to  be  tried  as  a  deserter,  —  was  practically  decided  by  Washing- 
ton's firmness  long  before  the  date  of  the  "plan."  There  is  no 
evidence  to  show  he  ever  received  the  least  emolument  from  the 
British  government.  Lee  rejoined  his  flag,  and  his  conduct  at 
Monmouth  appears  more  like  vacillation  than  treachery ;  for  it 
will  hardly  be  doubted  that,  had  he  so  intended,  he  might  easily 
have  betrayed  his  troops  into  the  hands  of  Sir  Henry  Clinton. 
If  opportunity  was  what  he  sought  to  give  effect  to  his  treason, 
it  must  be  looked  for  elsewhere  than  in  this  campaign,  which 
he  had  opposed  with  all  his  might,  and  executed,  so  far  as  in 
him  lay,  with  languor  and  reluctance.  We  can  conclude  Lee 
erratic,  wayward,  ambitious  beyond  his  abilities,  devoured  by 
egotism,  but  not  a  traitor ;  or  if  one,  he  was  the  most  disinter- 
ested that  the  pages  of  history  have  recorded. 

A  British  officer  who  knew  Lee  well  gives  this  account  of 
his  capture  :  — 

"He  was  taken  l^y  a  party  of  ours,  under  Colonel  Harcourt,  who 
surrounded  the  house  in  which  this  arch-traitor  was  residing.  Lee 
behaved  as  cowardly  in  this  transaction  as  he  had  dishonorably  in 
every  other.  After  firing  one  or  two  shots  from  the  house,  he  came 
out  and  entreated  our  troops  to  spare  his  life.  Had  he  behaved  with 
proper  spirit  I  should  have  pitied  him,  and  wished  tliat  his  energies 
had  been  exerted  in  a  better  cause.  I  could  hardly  refrain  from  tears 
when  I  first  saw  him,  and  thought  of  the  miserable  fate  in  which  his 
obstinacy  had  involved  him.  He  says  he  has  been  mistaken  in 
three  things :  1st,  That  the  New  England  men  would  fight ;  2d, 
That  America  was  unanimous  ;  and  3d,  That  she  could  afford  two 
men  for  our  one." 

Opposed  to  this  narration  is  that  of  Major  (afterwards  Gen- 
eral) Wilkinson,  who  was  with  the  General  at  the  moment  of 
his  capture,  but  who  made  his  escape.  He  was  the  bearer  of  a 
letter  from  General  Gates,  to  which  Lee  was  penning  a  reply, 
and  saw  from  the  -window  the  approach  of  the  British  dragoons. 
He  says  :  — 

"  Startled  at  this  unexpected  spectacle,  I  exclaimed,  '  Here,  sir, 
are  the  British  cavalry  ! '  '  Where  ? '  replied  the  General,  who  had 
signed  his  letter  in  the  instant.     '  Around  the  house';  for  they  had 


lee's  headquarters  and  vicinity.  147 

opened  files  and  encompassed  the  bnilding.  General  Lee  appeared 
alarmed,  yet  collected,  and  his  second  observation  marked  his  self- 
possession:  *  Where  is  the  guard  ?  Damn  the  guard,  why  don't  they 
fire  ? '  and  after  a  momentary  pause,  he  turned  to  me  and  said,  '  Do, 
sir,  see  what  has  become  of  the  guard.'  The  women  of  the  house  at 
this  moment  entered  the  room,  and  proposed  to  him  to  conceal  him- 
self in  a  bed,  which  he  rejected  with  evident  disgust." 

The  exact  language  used  by  Washington  in  the  hurried  alter- 
cation with  Lee  at  Momnouth  has  been  a  matter  of  much  curi- 
osity. The  ofiicers  who  overheard  this  celebrated  colloquy 
exhibited  at  the  trial  a  remarkable  forgetfulness  on  this  point. 
They  agree,  however,  that  His  Excellency  addressed  his  lieu- 
tenant "  with  much  ivarmth"  the  conventional  expression  for 
strong  language.  Lafayette,  who  was  both  on  the  field  and  at 
the  trial,  is  accredited  with  having  related  to  Governor  Tomp- 
kins, in  1824,  that  Washington  called  Lee  ''a  damned  pol- 
troon." "This,"  said  Lafayette,  "w^as  the  only  time  I  ever 
heard  Washington  swear."  * 

After  the  battle  Lee  certainly  wrote  two  very  impudent  and 
characteristic  letters  to  the  commander-in-chief.  His  subse- 
quent trial,  equalled  only  in  interest  in  our  military  annals  by 
that  of  Andre,  failed  to  fix  any  treasonable  design  on  the  gen- 
eral, though  it  punished  his  insubordination  by  a  year's  suspen- 
sion from  command.  His  military  peers  evidently  considered 
him  unfit  to  command  in  conjunction  with  Washington. 

Lee's  encounter  with  the  beautiful  Miss  Franks  of  Phila- 
delphia forms  a  humorous  episode.  The  lady,  who  had  been 
one  of  the  bright  stars  of  Sir  William  Howe's  entertainment 
of  the  Mischianza,  and  was  celebrated  for  her  keen  wit,  had 
asserted  that  General  Lee  wore  green  breeches  patched  with 
leather.  The  General  met  the  allegation  by  sending  the  unmen- 
tionables in  question  to  the  lady,  accompanied  by  a  letter,  which 
Miss  Franks  received  in  very  bad  part. 

The  will  of  General  Lee  contains  this  singular  request :  — 

"  I  desire  most  earnestly  that  I  may  not  be  buried  in  any  church 
or  churchyard,  or  within  a  mile  of  any  Presbyterian  or  Anabaptist 

*  Note  to  Ciistis's  Recollections,  p.  218. 


148        HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

meeting-house;  for  since  I  have  resided  in  this  country  I  have  kept 
so  much  had  company  when  living  that  I  do  not  choose  to  continue 
it  when  dead." 

General  Lee  died  at  an  obsciu-e  inn  (the  sign  of  the  Conestoga 
Wagon,  in  Market  Street,  Pliiladelphia),  October  2, 1782.  The 
last  words  he  distinctly  articulated  were  :  "  Stand  by  me,  my 
brave  grenadiers." 

Prospect  Hill,  second  in  the  line  of  investment,  had  formerly 
two  eminences,  both  of  which  were  strongly  fortified.  The 
citadel,  defended  by  outworks,  was  on  the  most  easterly  sum- 
mit, and  covered  with  its  fire  the  road  coming  from  Charles- 
town,  which  winds  around  its  base.  Cobble  Hill  (McLean 
Asylum),  and  the  low  ground  towards  Mount  Benedict.  Both 
eminences  were  connected  by  a  rampart  and  ditch,  which,  after 
being  cai-ried  the  whole  length  of  the  summit,  were  continued, 
along  the  lower  plateau  of  the  hill  in  a  northerly  direction,  till 
they  terminated  in  a  strong  redoubt  situated  very  near  the  pres- 
ent High  School.  On  the  Cambridge  side  the  works  joined 
Fort  No.  3  by  redoubts  placed  on  each  side  of  the  road  from 
Charlestown. 

It  was  here  Putnam  took  liis  stand  after  the  retreat  from 
Bunker  Hill,  and  the  next  day  found  him  busy  intrenching 
himself  in  full  view  of  the  late  battle-field.  Putnam  was,  per- 
haps, the  only  general  officer  then  mlling  to  take  and  hold  so 
advanced  a  position.  He  says  he  halted  here  without  orders 
from  anybody ;  it  was  expected  the  British  would  follow  up 
their  success,  and  he  placed  himself  resolutely  in  their  path. 

A  foreign  officer  of  distinction,  who  examined  the  works  on 
Prospect  Hill  five  years  after  the  events  of  the  siege,  says  of 
them  :  — 

"  All  these  intrenchments  seemed  to  me  to  be  executed  with  intel- 
ligence; nor  was  I  surprised  that  the  English  respected  them  during 
the  whole  winter  of  1776." 

Xearly  fifty  years  afterwards  a  visitor  thus  records  his  obser- 
vations of  the  same  lines  :  — 

"  The  forts  on  these  hills  were  destroyed  only  a  few  years  ago,  but 


lee's  headquarters  and  vicinity.  149 

theii"  size  can  be  distinctly  seen.  On  the  southern  eminence  the 
fort  is  still  entire,  and  the  southwest  face  of  the  hill  is  divided  into 
several  platforms,  of  which  I  cannot  exactly  understand  the  use. 
There  are  also  evident  marks  of  the  dwellings  of  the  soldiers.  The 
extensive  view  from  this  hill,  the  walk  on  the  ancient  ramparts,  and 
the  site  of  the  various  stations  occupied  by  the  American  army,  will 
render  tliis  hill  at  a  future  period  a  favorite  resort." 

After  the  arrival  of  General  Washington  the  army  vras  regu- 
larly brigaded,  and  General  Greene  w^as  assigned,  under  the 
orders  of  Lee,  to  the  command  at  Prospect  Hill.  He  accord- 
ingly took  up  his  quarters  there  on  the  26th  of  Jnly,  with 
Sullivan  on  his  left  at  Winter  Hill,  Patterson  at  his  feet  in 
No.  3,  and  Heath  on  his  right.  Greene  had  with  him  his  own 
Khode-Islanders  that  had  been  encamped  at  Jamaica  Plain,  and 
the  regiments  of  Wliitcomb,  Gardner,  Brewer,  and  Little,  —  a 
fluctuating  garrison  of  from  three  to  four  thousand  men.  The 
leader  was  the  right  man  in  the  right  place. 

Xathaniel  Greene  is  one  of  the  grandest  figures  of  the  Kevo- 
lution.  He  is  known  to  us  as  the  man  whom  Washington 
deemed  most  worthy  to  be  his  lieutenant,  and  how  he  ^dndi- 
cated  that  confidence  the  pages  of  history  relate.  It  is  said  he 
was  the  only  general  officer  who  testified  his  gratification  at 
the  appointment  of  Washington  by  presenting  an  address  from 
himself  and  his  officers  to  the  General  upon  his  arrival  at 
Cambridge,  —  a  circumstance  not  likely  to  escape  the  memory 
of  the  commander-in-chief  At  his  decease,  which  occuiTed  in 
1786,  Congress  voted  to  raise  a  monument  to  his  memory. 
It  was  never  erected,  and  we  are  left  to  reflect 

"  How  nations  slowly  wise  and  meanly  just, 
To  buried  merit  raise  the  tardy  bust." 

General  Knox,  the  bosom  friend  of  Greene,  said  to  a  dis- 
tinguished son  of  Carolina  :  — 

"  His  knowledge  is  intuitive.  He  came  to  us  the  rawest  and  most 
untutored  being  I  ever  met  with,  but  in  less  than  twelve  months  he 
was  equal  in  military  knowledge  to  any  general  officer  in  the  army, 
and  very  superior  to  most  of  them." 


150       HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

His  ability  as  commissary-general  of  the  army  is  well  known, 
as  is  the  fact  that  he  would  not  retain  the  office  unless  per- 
mitted to  command  in  the  field.  On  relieving  General  Gates 
after  the  disastrous  battle  of  Camden,  Greene  sat  up  the  whole 
night  \Wtli  General  Polk  of  Gates's  commissariat,  investigating 
the  resources  of  the  country ;  and,  as  was  stated  by  that  officer, 
Greene  better  understood  what  those  resources  were  on  the  fol- 
lowing morning  than  Gates  had  done  in  the  whole  period  of 
his  command.  His  treatment  of  General  Gates  on  this  trying 
occasion  was  remarkable  for  delicacy  and  magnanimity. 

Greene  was  seen,  in  1774,  in  a  coat  and  hat  of  the  Quaker 
fashion,  attentively  watching  the  exercises  of  the  British  troops 
on  Boston  Common.  Perhaps  Knox,  whose  shop  in  Cornhill 
he  frequented  for  certain  treatises  on  the  art  of  war,  was  his 
companion.  Such  was  the  primary  gchool  in  which  these  two 
great  soldiers  were  formed. 

When  Greene  was  selected  by  the  commander-in-chief  to 
command  the  Southern  army,  he  urged  in  the  strongest  terms 
the  superior  qualifications  of  Knox  for  that  position.  With  his 
usual  modesty,  the  Quaker  General  said  :  "  Knox  is  the  man  for 
that  difficult  undertaking ;  all  obstacles  vanish  before  him  ;  his 
resources  are  infinite."  Wasliington,  in  admitting  the  truth 
of  all  Greene  had  advanced,  replied,  in  effect,  that  these  were 
the  very  reasons  that  impelled  him  to  retain  Knox  near  his 
person. 

It  was  General  Greene's  fortune  to  preside  over  the  board  of 
officers  at  Tappan  which  condemned  the  chivalric  but  ill-starred 
Andre.  That  board  was  composed  of  the  most  distinguished 
men  of  the  army.  Among  them  all,  we  will  venture  to  say,  no 
heart  was  wrung  more  acutely  by  the  inexorable  necessity  for 
the  vindication  of  military  law  than  was  that  of  the  president. 
Alexander  Hamilton  said,  near  the  close  of  the  war,  while 
opposing  reprisals  for  the  death  of  Captain  Huddy  :  "  The  death 
of  Andre  could  not  have  been  dispensed  with ;  but  it  must  still 
be  viewed  as  an  act  of  rigid  justice." 

General  Greene  retired  from  the  army  in  very  embarrassed 
circumstances.     Like  the  other  general  officers,  he  had  received 


lee's  headquarters  and  vicinity,  151 

no  equivalent  for  the  sums  he  was  compelled  to  disburse  for  his- 
support  while  in  the  field.  These  officers  were  obliged  to  apply- 
to  Congress  for  "  relief,"  such  being  then,  as  now,  the  legal 
phraseology  of  an  application  of  a  creditor  when  government 
is  the  debtor.  Greene  met  with  losses  at  the  South  which 
hurt  him.  He  turned  to  the  soil ;  but  the  season  was  un- 
kind, and  his  first  crop  was  a  failure.  Congress  voted  him 
military  trophies,  but  these  did  not  afford  him  the  means  of 
living. 

It  is  pleasant  to  turn  from  the  contemplation  of  thf-  neglect 
which  Greene  experienced  as  a  general  to  examine  the  inner 
characteristics  of  the  man.  These  cannot  better  be  illustrated 
than  by  the  following  extracts  from  a  letter  written  by  him  in 
the  autumn  of  1781,  from  his  camp  on  the  High  Hills  of  Santee. 
Henry  Jackson,  of  whom  the  General  speaks,  was  the  burly, 
good-natured  colonel  of  the  16th,  sometimes  called  the  Boston 
Regiment. 

"  We  have  fought  frequently  and  bled  freely,  and  little  glory  comes 
to  our  share.  Our  force  has  been  so  small  that  nothing  capital  could 
be  effected,  and  our  operations  have  been  conducted  under  every  dis- 
advantage that  could  embarrass  either  a  general  or  an  army 

"  How  is  my  old  friend  Colonel  Jackson  ^  Is  he  as  fat  as  ever,  and 
can  he  still  eat  down  a  plate  of  fish  that  he  can't  see  over  I  God 
bless  his  fat  soul  with  good  health  and  good  spirits  to  the  end  of  the 
war,  that  we  may  all  have  a  happy  meeting  in  the  North." 

One  who  had  frequent  opportunities  of  observing  the  General 
has  admirably  painted  his  portrait.  Fortunately  for  us,  beards- 
were  not  worn  at  the  Revolution,  so  that  we  are  enabled  to 
trace  the  lineaments  of  celebrated  public  characters  of  that  time 
with  a  degree  of  satisfaction  that  will  hardly  reward  the  future  ' 
biographers  of  the  men  of  the  present  day. 

"  Major-General  Greene  in  person  was  rather  corpulent,  and  above 
the  common  size.  His  complexion  was  fair  and  florid,  his  counte- 
nance serene  and  mild,  indicating  a  goodness  which  seemed  to  soften 
and  shade  the  fire  and  greatness  of  its  expression.  His  health  was 
delicate,  but  preserved  by  temperance  and  regularity." 


152       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

*■'  On  martial  ground  the  school  of  heroes  taught, 
He  studied  battles  where  campaigns  were  fought; 
By  valor  led,  he  traced  each  scene  of  fame, 
Where  war  had  left  no  spot  without  a  name. 
Great  by  resolve,  yet  by  example  warned, 
Himself  the  model  of  his  glory  formed." 

General  Greene's  wife  (Catharine  Littlelield)  was  every  way 
worthy  of  her  distinguished  husband.  Her  conversation  and 
manner  were  fascinating  and  vivacious.  It  is  noteworthy  that 
Eh  Whitney  conceived  the  idea  of  his  wonderful  machine  while 
under  Mrs.  Greene's  roof  at  IVIulberry  Grove,  Georgia,  in  1792. 
Whitney,  then  a  poor  law-student,  was  protected  by  Mrs. 
Greene,  who  provided  him  an  apartment,  where  he  labored  and 
produced  his  cotton-gin. 

The  high  elevation  of  Prospect  Hill  exposes  it  on  all  sides  to 
the  chill  wintry  winds.  Even  now  a  residence  there  has  its 
(h'awbacks,  in  s])ite  of  the  charming  panorama  constantly  un- 
folded to  the  eyes  of  tbe  residents.  What,  then,  was  it  during 
the  winter  of  'To  -'7(),  wlien  the  ground  was  held  by  men  who 
slept  in  barracks  rudely  constructed  of  boards,  through  the  crev- 
ices of  which  the  snow  drifted  until  it  sometimes  covered  their 
sleeping  forms'?  Greene  wrote  to  his  neighbor,  Sullivan,  the 
last  of  September,  that  his  fingers  were  so  benumbed  he  could 
scarcely  hold  his  pen.  The  Gciueral  occupied  a  hut  in  the  rear 
of  his  encampment,  where  lie  was  visited  by  his  wife  shortly 
after  he  assumed  the  command  on  Prospect  Hill. 

As  what  we  desire  to  give  the  readt^r  is  as  accurate  a  view  as 
possible  of  the  Continental  camps  during  the  period  we  are 
considering,  we  cannot  do  better  than  to  exhibit  their  resources, 
and  especially  how  they  were  provided  with  artillery  to  defend 
such  extensive  lines.  In  so  far  as  such  testimony  is  attainable, 
the  evidence  of  the  actors  tli<'mselves  or  of  eyewitnesses  is 
preferred. 

Dr.  Thacher,  who  was  a  surgeon's  mate  in  Asa  Whitcomb's 
regiment  in  barracks  on  Prospect  Hill,  in  1 775,  says  :  — 

"  Before  our  privateers  had  fortunately  captured  some  prizes  with 
Qimiion  and  other  ordnance,  our  armv  before  Boston  had,  I  believe, 


LEE  S    HEADQUARTERS    AND   VICINITY. 


153 


only  four  *  small  brass  cannon  and  a  few  old  honey-comb  iron  pieces 
with  their  trunnions  broken  off  ;  and  these  were  ingeniously  bedded 
in  timbers  in  the  same  manner  as  stocking  a  musket.  These 
machines  were  exceedingly  unwieldy  and  inconvenient,  requiring 
much  skill  to  elevate  and  depress  them." 


CAKKIAGE   FOR   CANNON    WITHOUT   TRUNNIONS,    USED   BEFORE   BOSTON. 

As  early  as  January,  1775,  four  brass  pieces,  two  seven-inch 
mortars,  and  an  unknown  number  of  battering  cannon,  were 
in  possession  of  the  provincial  committees.  Besides  these,  oth- 
ers are  obscurely  hinted  at  without  mentioning  the  number. 
Worcester  and  Concord  were  selected  as  the  places  of  deposit 
for  all  the  artillery  and  munitions  of  war.  Even  as  far  back  as 
November,  1774,  the  committees  had  begun  to  purchase  heavy 
cannon,  which  could  be  found  in  all  the  seaports  from  Boston 
to  Falmouth.  Many  of  these  were  ship's  guns.  Others  had 
been  purchased  to  defend  the  ports  during  the  frequent  wars 
with  France ;  and  not  a  few  had  come  from  the  fortifications  of 
Louisburg  and  Annapolis  Eoyal.  It  appears  that  the  Eevolu- 
tionary  executive  had  voted  to  equip  a  park  of  sixteen  field- 
pieces,  in  which  those  brought  out  of  Boston  were  to  be  in- 
cluded. This  will  serve  to  show  that,  long  before  Lexington, 
the  Americans  were  earnestly  preparing  for  war,  and  that 
although  the  artillery  in  their  hands  was  generally  of  light 
calibre,  they  M^ere  by  no  means  as  defenceless  as  has  been 
supposed.  The  sixteen  field-pieces  were,  in  February,  voted  to 
be  distributed  among  the  seven  regiments  of  militia,  in  the  pro- 


I 


This  was  an  underestimate. 


7* 


154      HISTORIC   FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

portion  of  two  to  each,  and  two  to  the  Boston  company,  lately 
Paddock's,  it  being  the  intention  to  have  an  artillery  company 
in  each  regiment  of  minute-men.  In  March  eight  lield-pieces 
and  two  brass  mortars,  with  their  ammunition,  were  ordered  to 
be  deposited  at  Leicester. 

At  Concord,  on  the  1 9th  of  April,  the  British  disabled  three 
iron  24-pounders  by  knocking  off  the  trunnions.  These  were 
too  heavy  to  remove  as  readily  as  had  been  done  in  the  case 
of  the  lighter  pieces,  but  Yankee  ingenuity  made  the  guns  ser- 
viceable. Dr.  Preserved  Clap  invented  the  carriage  which  is 
described  by  Thacher,  and  in  our  drawing  made  by  an  officer 
of  artillery  present  at  the  siege.  There  were  also  field-pieces 
concealed  at  Xewburyport,  and  cannon  at  Maiden,  Watertown, 
and  Marlborough.  Four  light  brass  pieces  (3-pounders),  two 
of  which  had  belonged  to  Paddock's  Artillery,  were,  in  the 
early  days  of  the  blockade,  brought  out  of  Boston  under  the 
very  noses  of  the  British  officers. 

Two  days  after  tlie  battle  of  Lexington  the  Provincials  began 
to  collect  their  warlike  material,  and  couriers  were  despatched 
to  Gridley,  at  Stoughton,  and  to  David  Mason,*  then  upon 
furlough  at  Salem.  Mason  was  ordered  to  provide  the  neces- 
sary implements  for  eight  3-  and  three  6-pounders. 

On  the  29th  of  April  the  Committee  of  Safety  reported 
to  the  Provincial  Congress  that  there  were  in  Cambridge  six 
3-pounders  complete,  with  ammunition,  and  one  6-pounder. 
In  AVatertown  there  were  sixteen  pieces  of  artillery  of  differ- 
ent sizes.     The  Committee  say  :  — 

"  The  said  6-pounder  and  sixteen  pieces  of  artillery  will  be  taken 
out  of  the  way ;  and  the  first-mentioned  six  pieces  will  be  used  in  a 
proper  way  of  defence."  t 

Measures  were  taken  on  the  same  day  to  organize  two  com- 
panies of  artillery.  Captain  Joseph  Foster  being  appointed  to 
the  command  of  one  and  Captain  William  Lee  of  Marblehead 
to  the  other.  This  appears  to  be  the  first  step  taken  towards 
organizing  the  subsequently  famous  regiment  of  Massachusetts 

*  Afterwards  major  of  Knox's  Artillery, 
t  Records  of  the  Provincial  Congress. 


lee's  headquarters  and  vicinity.  155 

artillery,  which  Gridley,  Kiiox,  and  Crane  comnimanded.  The 
pieces  first  used  were  3-pounders,  and  were  those  taken  to 
Bunker  Hill,  where  five  of  the  six  were  captured  by  the  enemy. 
Among  the  Ehode  Island  troops  which  arrived  at  Cambridge 
early  in  June  was  a  fine  company  of  artillery,  with  four  excel- 
lent field-pieces.     On  the  12th  of  June  Edes's  Gazette  stated  that 

"  Many  large  pieces  of  battering  cannon  are  expected  soon  from 
different  places  ;  twelve  pieces.  18  and  24  pounders,  with  a  quan- 
tity of  ordnance-stores,  we  are  informed,  are  already  arrived  from 
Providence." 

A  train  with  four  field-pieces  had  also  arrived  in  camp  from 
Connecticut.  We  have  been  thus  circumstantial  because  much 
curiosity  has  existed  in  relation  to  the  Provincial  artillery 
before  the  arrival  of  Knox  from  Crown  Point  with  fifty-five 
pieces  of  various  calibres.  In  the  autumn  of  1776  Massa- 
chusetts began  to  cast  cannon. 

With  regard  to  small-arms  the  difficulties  Avere  even  greater. 
Spears  were  largely  used  to  supply  the  want  of  bayonets,  and 
were  kept  within  all  the  works  to  repel  assault.  They  were 
frequently  examined,  cleaned,  and  kept  ready  for  service.  As 
for  muskets,  the  General  Court,  as  far  back  as  1770,  had  tried 
to  wheedle  Hutchinson  out  of  the  Province  arms,  but  he  refused 
to  distribute  them  to  the  militia  as  recommended.  The  arms 
were  seized,  however,  in  February,  1775,  and  removed  from 
Harvard  College,  where  they  were  deposited,  to  Worcester,  to 
be  out  of  Gage's  clutches.  Private  sources  were  soon  exhausted, 
and  there  were  no  public  workshops.  Washington  paid  £  3 
for  a  gun  on  his  arrival  at  Cambridge;  and  by  September,  1776, 
the  price  for  a  serviceable  musket  with  bayonet  made  in  the 
State  was  £  4.  During  the  siege  the  scarcity  became  so  great 
that  the  muskets  had  to  be  taken  by  force  from  soldiers  whose 
term  of  enlistment  had  expired,  and  who  brought  their  own 
guns,  in  order  to  supply  those  coming  to  take  their  plac(^s. 

Rev.  William  Emerson,  grandfather  of  Ralph  Waldo  Emer- 
son, who  was  a  chaplain  in  the  army  at  this  time,  affords  us 
glimpses  of  the  Continental  camps  after  the  arrival  of  Wash- 
ington :  — 


156       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

"  My  quarters  are  at  the  foot  of  the  famous  Prospect  Hill,  \yhere 
such  great  preparations  are  made  for  the  reception  of  the  enemy.  It 
is  very  diverting  to  walk  among  the  camps.  They  are  as  different 
in  their  form  as  the  o^vners  are  in  their  dress,  and  every  tent  is  a 
portraiture  of  the  temper  and  taste  of  the  persons  who  encamp  in  it. 
Some  are  made  of  boards  and  some  of  sail-cloth.  Some  partly  of 
one  and  some  partly  of  the  other.  Again,  others  are  made  of  stone 
and  turf,  brick  and  brush.  Some  are  thrown  up  in  a  hurry;  others 
curiously  wrought  with  doors  and  windows  done  with  wreaths  and 
withes  in  the  manner  of  a  basket.  Some  are  your  proper  tents  and 
marquees,  looking  like  the  regular  camp  of  the  enemy.  In  these  are 
the  Rhode-Islanders,  who  are  furnished  with  tent-equipage  and 
everything  in  the  most  exact  English  style.  However,  I  think  this 
great  variety  is  rather  a  beauty  than  a  blemish  in  the  army." 

Rhode  Island  has  always  sent  her  sons  to  the  field  in  a  man- 
ner highly  creditable  to  herself.  As  in  the  Revolution  so  in  the 
late  Rebellion  her  troops  presented  themselves  supplied  with 
every  necessary  for  active  service.  When  the  Rhode-Islanders 
reached  Washington,  in  1861,  their  commander  was  asked, 
"  What  are  your  wants  1 "  "  Nothing,"  was  the  reply ;  "  my 
State  has  provided  for  everything." 

It  was  on  Prospect  Hill  that  Putnam  raised,  on  the  18th  of 
July,  1775,  liis  celebrated  flag,  bearings  on  one  side  the  motto, 
"  An  Appeal  to  Heaven  !  "  and  on  the  reverse  the  three  vines, 
which  are  the  armorial  bearings  of  Connecticut,  with  the  legend, 
"  Qui  Transtulit  Siistinet  !  "  The  shouts  that  rent  the  air  when 
Old  Put  gave  the  signal  are  said  to  have  caused  the  British 
on  Bunker  Hill  to  rush  to  arms,  in  thB  fear  of  an  immediate 
attack. 

Among  Greene's  officers  Colonel  Whitcomb  of  Lancaster  has 
been  mentioned.  The  Deacon,  as  he  was  usually  called,  was 
left  out  in  the  new  organization  of  the  army,  on  account  of  his 
age.  His  men,  who  were  much  attached  to  him,  highly  re- 
sented this  treatment  of  the  old  man,  and  declared  they  would 
not  re-enlist.  The  Colonel  told  them  he  did  not  doubt  there 
were  good  reasons  for  the  regulation,  and  said  he  would  enlist 
as  a  private  soldier.  Colonel  Brewer,  who  heard  of  this  deter- 
mination, offered  to  resign  in  favor  of  Whitcomb.     The  afftiir 


lee's  headquarters  and  vicinity.  157 

coming  to  Washington's  knowledge,  he  permitted  Brewer  to 
carry  his  proposal  into  effect,  giving  him  at  the  same  time  an 
appointment  as  barrack-master  until  a  vacancy  should  occur  in 
the  line.  The  General  then  published  the  whole  transaction 
in  orders. 

On  Xew- Year's  Day,  1776,  the  Union  Flag,  bearing  thirteen 
stripes,  was  hoisted  at  Prospect  Hill,  and  saluted  with  thirteen 
guns.  This  was  the  birthday  of  the  new  Continental  army  of 
undying  fame.  Now,  for  the  first  time,  the  thirteen  united 
Colonies  had  a  common  flag.  From  this  lofty  height  the  colors 
were  plainly  distinguishable  in  the  enemy's  camps,  and  were  at 
first  thought  to  be  a  token  of  submission,  —  the  king's  speech 
having  been  sent  to,  the  Americans  the  same  day.  But  the 
enemy  were  speedily  undeceived  ;  the  proclamation  was  not  re- 
ceived until  after  the  flag  had  been  flung  to  the  breeze.  There 
it  continued  to  fly  until  raised  in  triumph  on  the  abandoned 
works  of  the  British. 

Prospect  Hill  is  occasionally  mentioned  as  Mt.  Pisgah.  It 
could  be  reached  by  the  enemy's  battery  at  West  Boston,  which 
threw  a  13-inch  shell  into  the  citadel  during  the  bombard- 
ment preceding  the  possession  of  Dorchester  Heights.  The 
missile  exploded  without  doing  any  injury.  The  hill,  too,  is 
associated  with  the  last  days  of  the  siege  by  two  incidents.  An 
accidental  fire  which  occurred  in  the  barracks  was  conceived  by 
Howe  to  be  a  signal  for  calling  in  the  militia  from  the  country, 
and  probably  accelerated  his  preparations  to  depart.  The  fol- 
lovidng  order  was  issued  to  the  army  from  headquarters,  March 
4,1776:  — 

"  The  flag  on  Prospect  Hill  and  that  at  the  Laboratory  on  Cam- 
bridge Common  are  ordered  to  be  hoisted  only  upon  a  general  alarm : 
of  this  the  whole  army  is  to  take  particular  notice,  and  immediately 
upon  these  colors  being  displayed  every  officer  and  soldier  must  re- 
pair to  his  alarm-post.  This  to  remain  a  standing  order  until  the 
commander-in-chief  shall  please  to  direct  otherwise." 

Prospect  Hill 'next  demands  attention  from  the  circumstance 
that  in  November,  1777,  it  became  the  quarters  of  the  British 
portion  of  Burgoyne's  army ;  the  Hessians  occupied  the  barracks 


158       HISTOKIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

on  Winter  Hill.  The  British  arrived  at  Cambridge  on  Thurs- 
day the  6th,  and  the  Germans  on  the  following  day. 

The  English  entered  Cambridge,  via  Watertown,  in  the 
midst  of  a  pelting  storm,  and,  without  halting,  proceeded 
quickly  onward  to  Prospect  Hill.  The  officers  had  their  side- 
arms,  which  they  were  allowed  by  the  treaty  to  retain ;  but  the 
men,  unarmed,  gloomy,  and  sullen,  wore  httle  of  the  defiant  air 
■of  British  soldiers. 

As  for  the  Hessians,  the  appearance  they  presented  was 
truly  pitiable.  The  men  were  ragged  and  hlthy,  from  the 
effects  of  the  long  marches  and  bivouacs  without  shelter.  Most 
of  them  had  their  tobacco-pipes,  with  which,  with  the  national 
phlegm,  they  were  solacing  their  misfortunes,  so  that  a  cloud  of 
smoke  enveloped  them  as  they  moved  along.  They  were  fol- 
lowed by  luimbers  of  their  women,  staggering  under  the  bur- 
dens of  camp  utensils,  with  huge  hampers  on  their  backs,  from 
which  peeped  infants,  some  of  them  born  on  the  road.  That 
the  Germans  were  regarded  with  the  utmost  curiosity  by  the 
population  we  can  well  believe,  for  the  most  frightful  stories 
were  current  concerning  their  prowess  and  bloodthirstiness. 
The  American  ladies,  ignorant  that  at  home  these  women  per- 
formed their  share  of  the  labor  of  the  fields,  looked  with 
compassion  on  what  they  considered  evidence  of  the  brutal- 
ity of  the  men.  What  with  the  tobacco-smoke  and  effluvia 
arising  from  this  motley  horde,  the  air  was  tainted  as  they 
passed  by. 

The  Hessian  officers  politely  saluted  the  ladies  whom  they 
saw  at  the  windows,  but  the  Britons,  ever  selfish  and  intract- 
able in  misfortune,  kept  their  eyes  upon  the  ground.  Burgoyne 
rode  at  the  head  of  his  men,  behind  the  advanced  guard.  He 
and  his  officers  went  to  Bradish's  tavern,  afterwards  Porter's, 
where  they  remained  temporarily.  The  animals  which  drew 
the  prisoners'  baggage -wagons  seemed  to  partake  of  the  sorry 
condition  of  their  masters,  being  lean  and  half  starved. 

General  Pliillips,  during  the  early  part  of  the  march  from 
Saratoga,  is  said  to  have  expressed  his  astonishment  that  so 
great  an  expenditure  of  money  and  life  should  have  been  made 


lee's  headquarters  and  vicinity.  159 

to  conquer  so  barren  and  unattractive  a  region  as  that  through 
which  they  were  then  passing.  When  they  came  to  the  beau- 
tiful and  fertile  valley  of  the  Connecticut,  General  Whipple 
observed  :  "  This,  General,  is  the  country  we  are  fighting  for." 
"  Ah  !  "  replied  Phillips,  "  this  is  a  country  worth  a  ten  years' 
war." 

The  British  officers  soon  became  familiar  objects  to  the  people 
of  Cambridge,  some  of  whom  did  not  care  to  conceal  their  dis- 
content at  the  airs  these  sons  of  Mars  gave  themselves.  They 
lived  on  the  best  the  country  and  the  times  afforded,  prom- 
enading the  College  grounds,  and  appearing  in  public  ^vith 
their  swords  belted  about  them.  A  slight  check  to  their  self- 
sufficiency  "vvas  the  sight  of  their  w^hole  train  of  artillery,  which 
was  parked  on  the  Common. 

There  were  two  rows  of  barracks  situated  outside  the  citadel. 
These  barracks  were  enclosed  by  a  fence,  at  the  entrance  gate 
of  which  a  sentinel  was  posted.  Within  the  citadel  was  the 
guard-house,  always  occupied  by  a  strong  detachment  of  our 
troops.  Sentinels  were  placed  on  the  Charlestown  and  Cam- 
bridge roads,  and  at  the  provision  barracks  at  the  foot  of  the 
hill.  A  chain  of  sentinels  extended  across  the  valley  between 
Prospect  and  Winter  Hills,  the  line  passing  immediately  in 
rear  of  Oliver  Tufts's  farm-house.  The  peculiarity  of  the  terms 
granted  to  Burgoyne  and  his  soldiers  under  the  convention  with 
Gates  caused  the  British  officers  and  men  to  reject  the  name  of 
prisoners.     They  were  styled  "the  troops  of  the  Convention." 

The  American  guards  were  drawn  from  the  militia  of  ^lassa- 
cliusetts  expressly  for  this  service.  They  were,  for  the  most 
part,  ignorant  of  camp  discipline,  and  were  ridiculed  and  abused 
by  the  prisoners  whenever  an  opportunity  presented  itself.  The 
guards,  therefore,  did  not  go  beyond  the  letter  of  their  orders 
to  show  respect  to  the  prisoners. 

The  Britons,  on  the  other  hand,  were  not  of  a  better  class 
than  was  usual  in  tlie  rank  and  file  of  that  service.  Many  rob- 
beries were  committed  by  them  on  the  roads  and  even  within 
the  towns.  Moreover,  the  apprehensions  caused  by  the  pres- 
ence of  so  large  a  body  of  turbulent  spirits  near  a  populous 


160       HISTOKIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESP^X. 

place  justified  the  enforcement  of  stringent  regulations.  As  for 
the  officers,  they  were  supercilious  to  a  degree,  and  one  of 
them  was  shot  dead  for  neglecting  to  answer  the  challenge  of  a 
sentry. 

Inside  their  barracks  the  Convention  troops  were  allowed  to 
manage  for  themselves.  They  were  paraded,  punished,  and  re- 
ceived from  their  own  officers  orders  pertaining  to  their  comfort 
or  discipline  precisely  as  if  under  the  protection  of  their  own 
flag.  There  was  a  British  and  a  Hessian  officer  of  the  day  who 
saw  that  the  police  of  the  barracks  was  properly  performed. 
The  barracks  were,  of  course,  at  all  times  subject  to  the  inspec- 
tion of  the  Continental  officer  of  the  guard. 

Many  of  the  Germans  were  received  into  families  in  Boston  as 
servants,  or  found  employment  as  farm-laborers  in  the  neighbor- 
ing towns  by  their  own  desire.  Xumbers  of  them,  after  liaving 
been  clothed  and  well  fed,  absconded.  Five  of  the  British  were 
in  Boston  jail  at  one  time,  charged  with  highway  robbery ;  on 
one  of  them  was  found  a  watch  taken  from  a  gentleman  on 
Charlestown  Common.  Numerous  instances  occurred  where 
houses  in  and  around  Boston  were  robbed  of  weapons  only, 
while  more  valuable  booty  was  left  untouched.  This  created 
an  impression  that  a  conspiracy  existed  among  the  prisoners  to 
obtain  their  freedom,  especially  after  the  refusal  of  Congress 
to  carry  out  the  provisions  of  the  capitulation  became  known  in 
the  camp  of  the  Convention  troops. 

Matters  soon  came  to  a  crisis.  Some  of  the  British  one  day 
knocked  down  a  sentinel  and  took  away  his  gun,  which  they 
concealed  in  their  quarters  and  refused  to  give  up.  At  another 
time  they  rescued  a  prisoner  from  a  guard,  and  showed  every 
disposition  to  turn  upon  their  jailers.  After  this  last  occur- 
rence. Colonel  David  Henley,  who  commanded  at  Cambridge, 
ordered  a  body  of  the  prisoners  who  had  collected  in  front  of 
his  guard  on  Prospect  Hill  to  retire  to  their  barracks.  One  of 
the  prisoners  refusing  to  obey.  Colonel  Henley  wounded  him 
with  his  sword.  On  a  previous  occasion  he  had,  in  endeavor- 
ing to  silence  an  insolent  prisoner,  seized  a  firelock  from  the 
guard  and  slightly  wounded  the  man  in  the  breast. 


lee's  headquarters  and  vicinity.  161 

For  these  acts  Colonel  Henley  was  formally  accused  by  Gen- 
eral Burgoyne  "  of  behavior  heinously  criminal  as  an  officer  and 
unbecoming  a  man;  of  the  most  indecent,  violent,  vindictive 
severity  against  unarmed  men,  and  of  intentional  murder." 
Colonel  Henley  was  placed  in  arrest  and  tried  by  a  mili- 
tary court  at  Cambridge,  of  which  Colonel  Glover  was  presi- 
dent, and  Colonel  William  Tudor  judge-advocate.  General 
Burgoyne  appeared  as  prosecutor.  His  address  to  the  court 
was  a  model  of  wheedling,  cajolery,  and  special  pleading. 
He  complimented  the  president  for  his  honorable  treatment 
of  the  Convention  troops  on  the  march  to  Boston.  To  Col- 
onel Wesson,  who  had  immediate  command  in  the  district 
when  the  troops  arrived,  he  also  paid  his  respects,  and  even 
the  judge-advocate  came  in  for  a  share  of  his  persuasive 
eloquence. 

It  was  believed  that  Burgoyne  undertook  the  role  of  pros- 
ecutor, not  only  to  recover  in  some  degree  his  waning  influence 
with  his  troops,  but  to  retrieve,  if  possible,  his  reputation 
at  home,  by  appearing  in  the  guise  of  the  champion  of  his 
soldiers. 

Henley  owed  his  acquittal  mainly  to  the  exertions  of  Colonel 
Tudor  in  his  behalf.  The  evidence  showed  that  the  prisoner 
had  acted  under  great  provocation ;  but  what  most  influenced 
the  result  was  the  startling  testimony  adduced  of  the  mutinous 
spirit  prevalent  among  the  British  soldiers. 

A  day  or  two  after  this  trial  the  judge-advocate  and  Colonel 
Henley  met  at  Eoxbury  in  making  a  visit  to  a  family  where  a 
lady  resided  to  whom  Colonel  H.  was  paying  his  addresses. 
He  fancied  himself  coldly  received,  and  was  in  rather  a  melan- 
choly humor  as  they  rode  into  town  together.  In  coming  over 
the  JSTeck  he  abruptly  said  to  his  companion,  "  Colonel  Tudor, 
I  will  thank  you  to  shoot  me!"  "Why,  what  is  the  matter 
now?"  asked  Tudor.  "  You  have  ruined  me."  "  I  thought  I 
had  rendered  you  some  assistance  in  the  trial."  "  You  !?aid  I 
was  a  man  of  passionate,  impetuous  temper ;  this  has  destroyed 
me  in  the  estimation  of  the  woman  I  love  ;  you  see  she  received 
me  coldly.     You  have  destroyed  my  happiness.     You  may  now 


162        HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

do  me  a  favor  to  shoot  me."  Colonel  Tudor  was  vexed  for  a 
moment  at  this  sort  of  return  for  the  services  he  had  ren- 
dered, but  these  feelings  were  transient  on  both  sides ;  they 
continued  friends,  and  Colonel  Henley  married  the  lady  he 
loved. ''^ 

Henley  had  served  at  the  siege  of  Boston  as  brigade-major  to 
General  Heath.  In  December,  1776,  he  was  lieutenant-colonel 
of  Eufus  Putnam's  regiment.  He  commanded  the  rear-guard 
in  the  disastrous  retreat  through  the  Jerseys,  gaining  the 
opposite  shore  of  the  Delaware  at  midnight,  just  as  Cornwallis 
reached  the  river. 

Colonel  William  Tudor  presided  over  the  courts-martial  at 
Cambridge  after  the  arrival  of  Washington.  He  was  the  class- 
mate and  chum  of  Chief  Justice  Parsons  at  Harvard,  graduating 
in  the  class  of  1769.  In  1777  he  was  appointed  lieutenant- 
colonel  of  Henley's  regiment.  His  courtship  of  the  lady  who 
afterwards  became  his  wife  was  prosecuted  under  very  romanti*; 
circumstances.  By  the  hostilities  which  had  broken  out  lie  was 
separated  from  the  object  of  his  affections,  who  was  residing  on 
Noddles  Island  (East  Boston),  in  the  family  of  Henry  Howell 
Williams.  The  British  fleet,  which  lay  oil"  the  island,  rendered 
it  dangerous  to  ap])roach  it  in  a  boat.  A  boyish  acquisition 
was  now  of  use  to  the  gallant  colonel.  He  was  an  excellent 
swimmer.  Tying  his  clothes  in  a  bundle  on  Ids  head,  he,  like 
another  Leander,  swam  the  strait  between  tlie  island  and  tli<^ 
main,  paid  his  visit,  and  returned  the  way  he  came.  Miss  Delia 
Jarvis  —  that  was  the  lady's  name  —  became  Mrs.  'I'udor.  The 
Colonel's  son,  William,  is  well  known  in  literature  as  one  of 
the  founders  of  the  Anthology  Club,  and  first  editor  of  the 
North  American  Peview.  The  eldest  daughter  of  Colonel 
Tudor  married  Kobert  Hallowell  Gardiner,  of  Gardiner,  Maine  ; 
the  youngest  married  Commodore  Charles  Stuart  of  the  United 
States  Navy. 

It  is  related  of  Colonel  Tudor,  that  when  a  boy,  being  on  a 
visit  on  board  an  English  line-of-battle  ship  in  Boston  harbor, 
the  conversation  turned  upon  swimming.  Tudor  proposed  to 
*  Mass.  Historical  Collections. 


lee's  headquarters  and  vicinity.  163 

jump  from  the  taffrail  rail,  which  iii  ships  of  that  time  was  at  a 
considerable  height  from  the  water,  if  any  one  would  do  the 
same.  A  sailor  accepted  the  challenge.  The  boy  took  the  leap, 
but  the  man  was  afraid  to  follow. 

As  mention  has  been  made  of  Colonel  James  Wesson  in  con- 
nection with  the  trial  of  Henley,  we  may  be  permitted  to  intro- 
duce an  anecdote  of  the  manner  in  whicli  that  brave  officer's 
active  career  was  brought  to  a  close.  He  had  been  commissioned 
major  of  Samuel  Gerrish's  regiment  as  early  as  the  19th  May, 
1775,  by  Joseph  Warren,  and  served  at  the  siege  of  Boston.  In 
I^ovember,  1776,  he  was  made  colonel.  He  fought  with  credit  at 
Saratoga  and  Monmouth.  In  the  latter  battle  our  artillery  under 
Knox  opened  an  unexampled  cannonade,  to  which  the  British 
guns  fiercely  replied.  Colonel  Wesson,  who  then  commanded 
the  9th  Massachusetts,  was  in  the  front  line.  Leaning  over  his 
horse's  neck  to  look  under  the  cannon  smoke,  which  enveloped 
everything,  a  baU  from  the  enemy  grazed  his  back,  tearing  away 
his  clothing,  and  with  it  fragipents  of  his  flesh.  Had  he  re- 
mained upright  an  instant  longer  he  would  have  been  killed ; 
as  it  was,  he  remained  a  cripple  for  life. 

In  the  summer  of  1778  the  British  prisoners  were  transferred 
to  Rutland,  Massachusetts  ;  a  certain  number  went  to  Barre,  in 
the  same  State.  Some  thirty  or  forty  of  the  worst  characters, 
known  to  have  been  implicated  in  the  riots  which  preceded  the 
Henley  affair,  were  placed  on  board  the  guard-ships  at  Boston. 

On  the  28th  July  the  20th  British  regiment,  numbering 
then  about  four  hundred  men,  marched  for  Rutland,  under 
escort  of  a  detachment  of  Colonel  Thatcher's  regiment.  They 
were  followed  on  the  2d  of  September  by  the  21st  and  47th, 
and  on  the  5th  by  the  24th  regiment.  The  last  of  the  EngHsh 
troops  marched  for  the  same  destination  on  the  15th  of 
October,  and  the  people  of  Boston  breathed  freer  than  they  had 
done  for  months. 

Mrs.  Warren,  who  was  an  eyewitness,  tlius  spcniks  of  the 
effects  produced  by  the  presence  of  the  Britisli  soldiery  :  — 

"This  idle  and  dissipated  army  lay  too  Icjng  in  the  vicinity  of 
Boston  for  the  advantage  of  either  side.     While  theie,  in  «lnrance, 


164       HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

they  disseminated  their  manners  ;  they  corrupted  the  students  of 
Harvard  College  and  the  youth  of  the  capital  and  its  environs,  who 
were  allured  to  enter  into  their  gambling-parties  and  other  scenes  of 
licentiousness.  They  became  act|uainted  with  the  designs,  resources, 
and  weaknesses  of  America  ;  and  there  were  many  among  them 
whose  talents  and  capacity  rendered  them  capable  of  making  the 
most  mischievous  use  of  their  knowledge." 

As  might  have  been  expected,  there  were  a  great  many  de- 
sertions among  the  foreign  troops.  Before  the  end  of  December 
four  hundred  of  the  English  were  missing,  while  the  Bruns- 
wickers  lost  no  fewer  than  seventy-three  in  a  single  month. 
Colonels  Lee,  Henley,  and  Jackson  were  all  recruiting  in  Bos- 
ton in  1777-78,  and,  as  men  were  very  scarce,  they  were  not 
averse  to  enlisting  the  English  soldiers.  Burgoyne  gave  out 
publicly  that  neither  he  nor  his  troops  were  prisoners,  but  only 
an  unarmed  body  of  men  marching  through  a  country  to  the 
nearest  seaport  to  embark  for  their  homes.  The  men  them- 
selves, or  many  of  them,  were  anxious  to  enlist,  and  the  regi- 
ments then  in  Boston  would  have  had  n6  difficulty  in  filling  up, 
had  it  not  been  that  this  course  was  discountenanced  at  the 
headquarters  of  the  army  as  repugnant  to  the  good  of  the  ser- 
vice. The  Hessian  general  was  obliged  to  place  non-commis- 
sioned officers  as  sentinels, — privates  could  not  be  trusted,  —  to 
prevent  his  men  from  running  away.  Some  of  them  entered 
the  American  service,  and  the  descendants  of  some  are  now 
living  among  us. 

We  obtain  the  following  account  of  the  manner  in  which  the 
Convention  troops  were  quartered  at  Rutland  from  the  state- 
ment of  one  of  the  prisoners  :  — 

"  Here  we  were  confined  in  a  sort  of  pen  or  fence,  which  was  con- 
structed in  the  following  manner  :  A  great  number  of  trees  were 
ordered  to  be  cut  down  in  the  woods.  These  were  shai-pened  at 
each  end  and  drove  firmly  into  the  earth,  very  close  together,  en- 
closing a  space  of  about  two  or  three  acres.  American  sentinels  were 
planted  on  the  outside  of  this  fence,  at  convenient  distances,  in  order 
to  prevent  our  getting  out.  At  one  angle  a  gate  was  erected,  and  on 
the  outside  thereof  stood  the  guard-house.     Two  sentinels  were  con- 


lee's  headquarters  and  vicinity.  165 

stantly  posted  at  this  gate,  and  no  one  could  get  out  unless  he  had  a 
pass  from  the  officer  of  the  guard  ;  but  this  was  a  privilege  in  which 
very  few  were  indulged.  Boards  and  nails  were  given  the  British, 
in  order  to  make  them  temporary  huts  to  secure  them  from  the  rain 
and  the  heat  of  the  sun.  The  provisions  were  rice  and  salt  pork, 
delivered  with  a  scanty  hand.  The  officers  were  allowed  to  lodge  in 
the  farm-houses  which  lay  contiguous  to  the  pen  ;  they  were  per- 
mitted likewise  to  come  in  amongst  their  men  for  the  2)urpose  of 
roll-call  and  other  matters  of  regularity." 

On  the  9th  November,  1778,  the  British  and  Germans,  in 
accordance  with  a  resolve  of  Congress,  began  their  march  for 
Virginia  in  six  divisions,  each  of  which  was  accompanied  by  an 
American  escort.  Each  nationality  formed  a  division.  The 
first  English  division  consisted  of  the  artillery,  grenadiers,  and 
light  infantry,  and  the  9th  (Taylor's)  regiment,  under  command 
of  Lieutenant-Colonel  Hill.  The  second  English  division  con- 
sisted of  the  20th  (Parr's)  and  21st  (Hamilton's)  regiments, 
commanded  by  Major  Forster;  and  the  third,  composed  of 
the  24th  (Eraser's),  47th  (ISTesbitt's),  and  62d  (Anstruther's) 
regiments,  were  under  the  command  of  Brigadier  Hamilton. 
The  first  German  division  consisted  of  the  dragoons,  grenadiers, 
and  the  regiment  Von  Ehetz,  under  Major  Von  Mengen.  In 
the  second  division  were  the  regiments  Von  Riedesel  and  Von 
Specht,  led  by  General  Specht ;  the  third  was  made  up  of  the 
Barner  Battalion,  the  regiment  Hesse  Hanau,  and  the  artillery, 
under  Brigadier  Gall.  The  divisions  marched  respectively  on 
the  9th,  10th,  and  11th,  keeping  one  day  in  advance  of  each 
other  on  the  route.  Burgoyne  having  been  permitted  to  return 
to  England,  General  Phillips  was  in  command  of  all  the  Con- 
vention troops.  He  had  been  placed  in  arrest  by  General  Heath 
for  using  insulting  expressions  in  connection  with  Lieutenant 
Brown's  death,  but  Gates,  who  now  succeeded  to  the  command, 
relieved  the  fiery  Briton  from  his  disability. 

The  story  of  the  sojourn  of  the  British  army  in  the  interior 
of  Massachusetts  closes  with  a  domestic  tragedy.  Bathsheba 
8pooner  was  the  daughter  of  that  tough  old  tory.  Brigadier 
Euggles,  of   Sandwich,    Massachusetts,   who  fought  with   Sir 


166       HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

William  Johnson  in  1755.  He  had  been  at  the  head  of  the 
bench  of  the  Court  of  Common  Pleas,  and  a  delegate  to  tlie 
Congress  of  1765,  where  his  course  subjected  him  to  reprimand 
from  the  Massachusetts  House.  In  1774  he  was  a  Mandamus 
Councillor,  and  in  the  following  year,  after  taking  refuge  in  the 
then  tory  asylum  of  Boston,  he  attempted  to  raise  a  loyal  corps 
there,  of  which  Howe  appointed  him  commandant.  In  some 
respects  Ruggles  was  not  unlike  Putnam,  —  he  was  brave  and 
impetuous.  Like  him,  also,  he  was  a  tavern-keeper ;  but  he 
wanted  the  love  of  country  and  rough  good-humor  which  made 
every  one  admire  Old  Put. 

Bathsheba  proved  to  be  a  sort  of  female  Borgia.  Her  husband, 
Joshua  Spooner,  was  a  respected  citizen  of  Brookfield,  Massa- 
chusetts. His  wife,  who  had  conceived  a  lawless  passion  for 
another,  found  in  WilHam  Brooks  and  James  Buchanan  — 
soldiers  of  Burgoyne  —  two  instruments  ht  for  her  bloody  pur- 
pose. She  employed  them  to  murder  her  husband,  which  they 
did  without  remorse.  The  murderess,  her  two  assassins,  and 
another  participant  were  tried,  convicted,  and  executed  at 
Worcester  in  July,  1778,  for  the  crime.  There  is  not  in  the 
criminal  annals  of  Massachusetts  a  more  horrible  and  repulsive 
record  than  this  trial  affords.  For  such  a  deed  we  can  but 
think  of  the  invocation  of  Lady  Macbeth  :  — 

*'  Come,  come,  you  spirits 
That  tend  on  mortal  thoughts,  unsex  me  here  ; 
And  fill  me,  from  the  crown  to  the  toe,  top-full 
Of  direst  cruelty  !  make  thick  my  hlood, 
Stop  up  the  access  and  passage  to  remorse, 
That  no  compunctious  visitings  of  nature 
Shake  my  fell  purpose,  nor  keep  peace  between 
The  effect  and  it !  " 

Buchanan,  one  of  the  criminals,  is  supposed  to  be  the  same 
who  was  a  corporal  in  the  9  th  regiment.  He  had  been  a  leader 
in  the  mutiny  on  Prospect  Hill,  and  was  in  arrest  at  the  time 
of  the  Henley  trial.  In  taking  leave  for  the  present  of  the 
Convention  troops,  we  recall  the  j^ertinent  inquiry :  "  Who 
would  have  thought  that  Mr.  Burgoyne's  declaration  would 
have  been  so  soon  verified  when  he  said  in  Parliament  that  at 


lee's  headquarters  and  vicinity.  167 

the  head  of  five  thousand  troops  he  would  march  through  the 
continent  of  America  1 " 

The  remains  of  the  works  on  Prospect  Hill  may  still  be  fol- 
lowed, with  here  and  there  a  loss  of  contiimity  where  houses 
have  been  built,  or  the  original  level  cut  away  so  as  to  conform 
to  a  certain  grade.  We  found  little  difficulty  in  pursuing  the 
entire  line  from  the  redoubt  near  the  new  Higli  School  on 
Central  Hill,  which  terminated  the  defences  on  this  side,  to  the 
extreme  summit  of  Mount  Prospect,  where  stood  the  citadel. 

The  ground  in  the  vicinity  of  the  High  School  is  upheaved 
into  mounds,  which  evidently  formed  a  part  of  the  old  redoubt. 
The  line  of  the  ditch  can  still  be  traced  to  where  it  is  crossed 
by  Highland  Avenue.  Beyond  here,  again,  the  iutrenchment 
still  remains  breast-high,  with  a  well-deliiied  fosse,  in  which 
trees  are  growing.  At  this  point  a  stone  with  a  brief  inscrip- 
tion would  in  future  call  to  remembrance  the  site  of  the 
intrenchment. 

Leaving  this,  the  northerly  of  the  two  eminences  of  Prospect 
Hill,  we  pass  on  to  the  extreme  summit,  where  an  enchanting 
view  bursts  upon  the  sight.  The  homes  of  half  a  million  of 
people  are  before  you.  The  tall  chimneys  of  East  Cambridge, 
the  distant  steeples  of  the  city  and  of  its  lesser  satellites,  whose 
hands  are  grasped  across  the  intervening  river,  form  a  won- 
drous and  instructive  exhibition  of  that  prosperity  which  our 
fathers  battled  to  secure. 

Could  the  shades  of  those  who  by  day  and  by  niglit  kept 
watch  and  ward  on  this  embattled  height  once  again  revisit  the 
scene  of  their  trials  and  their  triumphs,  we  could  scarcely  ex- 
pect them  to  recognize  in  the  majestic,  dome-crowned  city  the 
gray  old  town  which  they  beheld  through  the  morning  mists 
of  a  century  gone  by,  or  even  to  identify  the  winding  river  on 
whose  bosom  lay  moored  the  hostile  shipping,  and  from  whose 
black  sides, 

"Sullen  and  silent,  and  like  couchant  lions, 
Their  canrton  through  the  night, 
Holding  their  breath,  had  watched  in  grim  defiance 
The  sea-coast  opposite." 


168      HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

The  relics  of  the  ancient  citadel  and  its  outworks  are  plainly- 
marked,  though  in  some  places  mere  drifts  of  earth  give  the 
contour.  Thick  and  solid  must  have  been  the  ramparts  to 
have  endured  the  storms  of  ninety  odd  years,  and  even  now 
they  are  to  fall  at  the  command  of  improvement  before  their 
outline  has  been  beaten  back  by  the  elements  into  the  earth 
from  which  they  sprung. 

On  all  sides  the  hill  is  being  digged  down,  and  erelong  Put- 
nam's and  Greene's  strong  fortress  will  have  melted  away.  The 
hill  would  have  been  in  all  time  a  favorite  resort,  which  good 
taste  might  have  converted  into  a  beautiful  park.  The  site  is 
wanted  for  building,  and,  no  voice  potent  enough  being  raised 
to  arrest  its  destruction,  this  bold  headland  of  the  Revolution, 
so  remarkable  for  its  height  and  its  associations,  must  fall.  We 
bid  a  reluctant  adieu  to  Mount  Prospect. 


OLD   CHARLESTOWN   ROAD.  169 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

OLD   CHARLESTOWN    ROAD,    LECHMERE's    POINT,   AND    PUTNAM's 
HEADQUARTERS. 

"  Poor  Tommy  Gage  within  a  cage 
Was  kept  at  Boston  ha\  man, 
Till  Willie  Howe  took  o'er  the  knowe 
For  Philadelphia,  man." 

OF  the  many  whose  custom  it  is  to  pass  over  the  high-road 
leading  from  Charlestown  to  Cambridge  Common  it  is 
likely  that  few  are  aware  that  they  follow  the  course  over  which 
condemned  criminals  were  once  transported  for  execution.  Its 
antecedents  may  not  be  as  prolific  of  horrors  as  the  way  from 
Newgate  to  Tyburn,  which  counts  a  life  for  every  rod  of  the 
journey,  but  its  consequence  as  one  of  the  most  frequented 
highways  of  colonial  days  caused  its  selection  for  an  exhibition 
which  chills  the  blood,  and  carries  us  back  within  view  of  the 
atrocious  judicial  punishments  of  the  Dark  Ages. 

To  kill  was  not  enough.  The  law  was  by  no  means  satisfied 
with  the  victim's  life.  The  poor  human  shell  must  be  hacked 
or  mangled  \\ith  all  the  savagery  which  barbarous  ingenuity 
could  devise ;  and  at  last  Justice  erected  her  revolting  sign  by 
the  public  highway,  where  the  decaying  corse  of  the  victim 
creaked  in  a  gibbet,  as  it  mournfully  obeyed  the  behest  of  the 
night-wind.  Gibbeting,  burning,  impahng,  have  all  a  precedent 
in  New  England,  of  which  let  us  relate  an  incident  or  two. 

In  the  year  1749  a  fire  broke  out  in  Charlestown,  destroying 
some  shops  and  other  buildings  belonging  to  Captain  John 
Codman,  a  respectable  citizen  and  active  military  officer.  It 
transpired  that  Captain  Codman  had  been  poisoned  by  his 
negro  servants,  Mark,  Phillis,  and  Phoebe,  who  were  favorite 
domestics,  and  that  the  arson  was  committed  to  destroy  the 


170       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

evidence  of  the  crime.  The  man  had  procured  arsenic  and  tWt 
women  administered  it.  Mark  was  hanged,  and  Phillis  was 
burnt  at  the  usual  place  of  execution  in  Oambridge.  Phoebe, 
who  was  said  to  have  been  the  most  culpable,  became  evidence 
against  the  others.  She  was  transported  to  the  West  Indies. 
The  body  of  Mark  was  suspended  in  irons  on  the  northerly  side 
of  Cambridge  road,  now  Washington  Street,  a  little  west  of  and 
very  near  the  stone  quarry  now  there.  The  gibbet  remained 
until  a  short  time  before  the  Revolution,  and  is  mentioned  by 
Paul  Revere  as  the  place  where  he  was  intercepted  by  a  patrol 
of  British  officers  on  the  night  he  carried  the  news  of  the  march 
of  the  regulars  to  Lexington.  A  specimen  of  one  of  these  bar- 
barous engines  of  cruelty  may  be 
seen  in  the  Boston  Museum.  It 
was  brought  from  Quebec,  and 
looks  as  though  it  might  have  been 
])ut  to  horrid  purpose. 

This  was,  in  all  probability,  the 
latest   occurrence    of  burning  and 
°^^^^^7mate.  gibbeting  in  Massachusetts.    Earlier 

it  was  not  uncommon  to  condemn 
malefactors  of  the  worst  sort  to  be  hung  in  chains.  As  long 
ago  as  1726  the  bodies  of  the  pirates,  William  Fly,  Samuel 
Cole,  and  Henry  Greenville,  were  taken  after  execution  to  Nix's 
Mate,  in  Boston  harbor,  where  the  remains  of  Fly  were  sus- 
pended in  chains ;  the  others  were  buried  on  the  island,  which 
then  contained  several  acres.  Hence  the  superstitious  awe 
with  which  the  place  is  even  now  regarded  by  mariners,  and 
which  the  disappearance  of  the  island  has  served  so  firmly  to 
establish. 

We  must  confess  that  while  our  humanity  revolts  at  these 
barbarous  usages  of  our  ancestors,  we  cannot  but  admit  that 
punishment  followed  crime  in  their  day  with  a  certainty  by  no 
means  paralleled  in  our  own.  The  severity  of  the  code,  the 
infliction  of  death  for  petty  crimes,  we  must  abhor  and  con- 
demn ;  but  we  may  still  contrast  that  state  of  things,  in  which 
the  criminal's  life  was  held  so  cheaply,  with  the  present  time. 


OLD    CHARLESTOWN    ROAD.  171 

ill  wliicli  condemned  malefactors  repose  on  luxuriant  couches, 
while  the  law  jealously  guards  them  from  the  penalty  (jf  crime, 
and  justice,  uncertain  of  itself,  repeals  its  sentence  and  sets  the 
guilty  free.  To  something  we  must  attribute  the  startling 
increase  of  crime.     Can  it  be  the  laxity  of  the  law  1 

Thomas  Morton,  the  Merry  Andrew  of  Mount  WoUaston, 
relates,  in  his  J^ew  English  Canaan,  an  occurrence  which,  ]i(^ 
says,  happened  to  Weston's  colony,  in  what  is  now  Weymouth  ; 
and  upon  this  slight  foundation  Hudibras  built  his  humorous 
account  of  the  hanging  of  a  weaver  for  the  crime  of  which  a 
cobbler  had  been  adjudged  guilty:  — 

"  Our  brethren  of  New  England  use 
Choice  mal-factors  to  excuse, 
And  hang  the  guiltless  in  their  stead, 
Of  whom  the  churches  have  less  need  ; 
As  lately  happened." 

Morton's  story  goes  that,  one  of  Weston's  men  having  stolen 
corn  from  an  Indian,  a  parliament  of  all  the  people  was  called 
to  decide  what  punishment  should  be  inflicted.  It  was  agreed 
that  the  crime  was  a  felony  under  the  laws  of  England,  and  that 
the  culprit  must  suffer  death.  Upon  this  a  person  arose  and 
harangued  the  assembly.  He  })roposed  that  as  the  accused  was 
young  and  strong,  tit  for  resistance  against  an  enemy,  they 
should  take  the  young  man's  clothes  and  put  them  upon  some 
old,  bedridden  person,  near  to  the  grave,  and  hang  him  in  the 
stead  of  the  other.  Although  M(jrton  says  the  idea  was  well 
liked  by  the  multitude,  he  admits  that  the  substitution  was  not 
made,  and  that  the  course  of  justice  was  allowed  to  take  effect 
upon  the  real  offender. 

Branding  was  not  an  unusual  punishment  in  former  times. 
A  marine  belonging  to  one  of  his  Majesty's  ships  lying  in  Bos- 
ton harbor,  in  1770,  being  convicted  of  manslaughter,  was 
immediately  branded  in  the  hand  and  dismissed.  Mont- 
gomery and  Killroy,  convicted  (jf  the  same  crime  for  participa- 
tion in  the  5th  of  March  massacre,  were  also  branded  in  thti 
same  manner. 

Directly  in  front  of  Mount    Prospect,  of  whi(;h  it  is  it  lessf>r 


172       HISTOEIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 


satellite,  is  the  hill  on  wliich  is  situated  the  Asylum,  for  the 
Insane,  named  for  noble  John  McLean.  During  the  siege  this 
elevation  was  indifferently  called  Miller's  and  Cobble  Hill,  and 
subsequently  Barrell's  Hill,  from  Joseph  Barrell  of  Boston, 
whose  superb  old  mansion  is  still  standing  there. 

The  work  on  Cobble  Hill  was  laid  out  by  General  Putnam 
and  Colonel  Knox.     It  was  begun  on  the  night  of  I^ovember 

22,  1775,  and 
was  considered, 
when  completed, 
the  best  speci- 
men of  military 
engineering  the 
Americans  could 
yet  boast  of,  — 
receiving  the 
name  of  Put- 
nam's impregna- 
ble fortress.  To 
Washington's 
great  surprise,  he 
was  allowed  to 
finish  the  work  without  the  least  interruption  from  the  enemy. 
Cobble  Hill  was  within  point-blank  range  of  the  enemy's 
lines  on  Bunker  HiU,  and  the  post  was  designed  to  command 
the  ferry  between  Boston  and  Charlestown,  as  well  as  to  pre- 
vent the  enemy's  vessels  of  war  from  moving  up  the  river  at 
pleasure,  —  a  result  fully  accomplished  by  arming  the  fort  with 
18  and  24  pounders. 

As  Colonel  Knox  had  a  principal  share  in  laying  out  the  fort 
on  Cobble  Hill,  the  only  one  of  the  works  around  Boston  he  is 
certainly  known  to  have  designed,  the  eminence  should  retain 
some  association  with  the  name  of  this  distinguished  soldier  of 
the  Eevolution. 

At  the  time  he  quitted  Boston  to  repair  to  the  American 
camp,  Knox  rented  of  Benjamin  Harrod  a  store  in  old  Cornhill 
(noAv  the   site  of  the  "  Globe "  newspaper),  who  readily  con- 


( 


OLD   CHARLESTOWN   ROAD.  173 

sented  that  Knox's  goods  might  remain  there,  in  the  behef  that 
his  tory  connections  —  he  had  lately  married  the  daughter  of 
Secretary  Flucker  —  would  be  a  safeguard  for  both.  The  store, 
however,  was  rifled  by  the  British,  and  the  landlord  put  in  a 
claim  against  Knox  for  the  time  it  was  shut  up,  which  Knox 
indignantly  refused  to  allow.  After  the  evacuation,  William 
Knox,  brother  of  the  general,  continued  the  business  of  a  book- 
seller at  the  same  stand. 

When  the  Ee volution  began,  Knox  was  a  lieutenant  of  the 
Boston  Grenadiers,  commanded  by  Thomas  Dawes,  with  the 
rank  of  major.  Dawes  was  an  officer  of  activity  and  address, 
and  had  exerted  himself  to  bring  the  militia  to  a  high  standard 
of  excellence.  The  presence  of  some  of  the  best  regiments  in 
the  British  service  offered  both  a  model  and  incentive  for  these 
efforts.  The  company  was  composed  of  mechanics  and  profes- 
sional men,  selected  with  regard  to  their  height  and  martial 
bearing,  no  member  being  under  five  feet  ten  inches,  and  many 
six  feet  in  height.  Joseph  Peirce  was  a  lieutenant  with  Knox, 
and  Lemuel  Trescott  (afterwards  a  distinguished  officer  in  the 
Massachusetts  line)  was  orderly-sergeant.  The  company  made  a 
splendid  appearance  on  parade,  and  Knox  was  considered  a  re- 
markably fine-looking  officer.  So  at  least  thought  one  young 
lady,  who,  it  is  said,  became  captivated  with  her  tall  grenadier 
through  those  broad  avenues  to  the  female  heart,  admiration 
and  pity,  and  by  the  following  circumstance  :  — 

Harry  Knox  had  been  out  gunning  some  time  previous,  when 
the  piece  he  carried,  bursting  in  his  hands,  occasioned  the  loss 
of  several  of  his  fingers.  "  He  made  his  appearance  in  the 
company,"  says  Captain  Henry  Burbeck,  "  with  the  wound 
handsomely  bandaged  with  a  scarf,  which,  of  course,  excited 
the  sympathy  of  all  the  ladies.  I  recollect  the  circumstance  as 
well  as  though  it  had  only  happened  yesterday.  I  stood  at  the 
head  of  Bedford  Street  and  saw  them  coming  up." 

It  is  probable  that  Lucy  Flucker  was  a  frequent  visitor  to 
Knox's  shop,  for  he  reckoned  the  cream  of  the  old  Bostonians, 
as  well  as  the  debonair  officers  of  his  Majesty's  army  and  fleet, 
among  his  customers.     Longman  was  his  London  correspondent. 


174      HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX; 

and  that  arch-knave,  Eivington,  his  New  York  ally  in  trade ;  be 
it  known  that  jS^ew  York  rehed  on  Boston  chiefly  for  its  advices 
from  England  before  the  Eevolution.  There  is  evidence  that 
the  affair  of  Knox  and  Miss  Flucker  was  a  love-match  not 
.sanctioned  by  her  family.  Lncy  Flucker,  with  a  true  woman's 
faith  and  self-devotion,  espoused  the  cause  and  embraced  thu 
fortunes  of  her  husband.  She  followed  him  to  the  cani]^  antl 
to  the  field. 

Knox's  great  reputation  as  an.  officer  of  artillery  had  its 
beginning  here  before  Boston.  He  succeeded  Gridley  in  the 
command  of  the  Massachusetts  regiment  of  artillery,  a  regiment 
of  which  Paddock's  company  formed  the  nucleus,  and  of  which 
some  twent}^  members  became  commissioned  officers  in  the 
army  of  the  Revolution.  That  company  nobly  responded  when 
Joseph  Warren  demanded  of  them  how  many  could  be  counted 
on  to  serve  in  the  Army  of  Constitutional  Liberty  when  it 
should  take  the  field.  And  David  Mmsou.  wlio  liad  raised  the 
company,  subsequently  Paddock's,  made  no  cllbrt  to  obtain 
promotion  for  himself,  but  de(;lared  his  wiUingness  to  serve 
under  Knox,  if  the  latter  could  be  a])pointed  colonel  of  th(« 
artillery. 

Knox  became  very  early  a  favorite  with  Washington.  AVe 
know  not  whether  the  general-in-chief  was  of  Caesar's  way  of 
thinking,  but  it  is  certain  Knox  would  have  fulfilled  the 
Roman's  desire  when  he  exclaims  from  his  heart :  — 

"  Let  me  have  men  about  me  that  are  fat  ; 
Sleek-headed  men,  and  sncli  as  sleep  o'  nights." 

We  have  seen  that  Washington  told  Greene  he  meant  to 
keep  Knox  near  him.  On  the  other  hand,  Knox  loved  and 
revered  his  commander  as  a  son.  At  that  memorable  leave- 
taking  at  Francis's  tavern  in  Xew  York,  which  no  American 
can  read  without  emotion,  the  (xeneral,  after  his  few,  touching 
words  of  farewell,  invites  his  comrades  to  take  him  by  the 
hand.  "  Knox,  being  nearest,  turned  to  him.  Incapable  of 
utterance,  Washington,  in  tears,  grasped  his  hand,  embraced, 
and   kissed  him.      In   the  same  affectionate   manner  he  took 


OLD    CHARLESTOWN    UOAD.  17.) 

leave  of  each  succeeding  officer."     History  does  not  record  such 
another  scene  as  this. 

Wilkinson  says  Knox  facilitated  the  passage  of  the  Delaware 
before  Trenton  by  liis  stentorian  lungs  and  extraordinary  exer- 
tions. He  was  in  the  front  at  Monmouth,  placing  his  pieces  at 
a  critical  moment  where  they  stemmed  the  British  onset  and 
restored  the  battle.  But  Harry  Knox  "  won  his  spurs  "  by  his 
successful  exertions  in  removing  the  artillery  from  Crown  Point 
to  the  camp  at  Cambridge.  At  one  time  failure  stared  him  in 
the  face.  The  advanced  season  and  contrary  winds  were  near 
preventing  the  transportation  of  his  ponderous  treasures  across 
the  lake.  The  bateaux  were  rotten,  and  some,  after  l)eing 
loaded  with  infinite  difficulty,  either  sunk  or  let  the  cannon 
through  their  leaky  bottoms.  With  joy  at  last  Knox  saw 
his  efforts  crowned  with  success.  He  writes  to  Washington, 
"  Three  days  ago  it  was  very  uncertain  whether  we  could 
have  gotten  them  until  next  spring,  but  now,  please  God,  they 
must  go." 

The  cannon  and  mortars  were  loaded  on  forty-two  strong 
sleds,  and  were  dragged  slowly  along  by  eighty  yoke  of  oxen, 
the  route  being  from  Fort  George  to  Kinderhook,  and  from 
thence,  via  Great  Barrington,  to  Springfield,  where  fresh  cattle 
were  provided.  The  roads  were  bad,  and  suitable  carriages 
could  not  be  had,  so  that  the  train  could  not  proceed  witliout 
snow.  Fortunately  the  roads  became  passable,  and  the  sin- 
gular procession  wound  its  tedious  way  through  the  moun- 
tains of  Western  Massachusetts  and  down  to  the  sea.  "  We 
shall  cut  no  small  figure  in  going  through  the  country  with 
our  cannon,  mortars,  &c.,  drawn  by  eighty  yoke  of  oxen," 
says  Knox. 

General  Knox,  notwithstanding  his  later  pecuniary  diffi- 
culties, in  which  some  of  his  best  friends  were  unfortunately 
involved,  was  the  soul  of  honor.  When  the  war  broke  out  he 
was  in  debt  to  Longman  and  other  London  creditors  to  a  con- 
siderable amount,  but  at  the  peace  he  paid  the  greater  part  of 
these  debts  in  full.  Well  might  Mrs.  Knox,  after  her  bereave- 
ment,  speak   of  "  his    enlarged    soul,   his  generous   heart,   his 


176       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

gentleness  of  demeanor,  and  his  expansive  benevolence."  He 
deserved  it  all. 

When  the  General  became  a  resident  of  Boston  again,  ten 
years  after  he  had  quitted  it  for  the  service,  he  was  a  tenant  of 
Copley's  house  on  Beacon  Hill.  He  was  then  very  fat,  and 
wore  in  summer  a  high-crowned  Leghorn  hat,  a  very  full  shirt- 
frill,  and  usually  carried  a  green  umbrella  under  his  arm.  His 
injured  hand  was  always  wrapped  in  a  silk  handkerchief,  whicli 
he  was  in  the  habit  of  unwinding  when  he  stopped  to  speak 
with  any  one.  Knox  County  and  Knoxville  in  East  Tennessee 
were  named  for  the  General  while  Secretary  of  War. 

Mrs.  Knox  was  a  fine  horsewoman.  She  was  affable  and 
gracious  to  her  equals,  but  was  unbending  and  unsocial  with 
her  inferiors,  so  that  when  her  husband  went  to  live  in  his 
elegant  home  at  Thomaston,  Maine,  she  found  the  society  but 
little  congenial.  Her  winters  were  chiefly  passed  in  Boston, 
among  her  former  friends,  where  she  was  often  to  be  seen  at 
the  evening  parties.  When  at  home  the  General  and  lady  re- 
ceived many  notable  guests,  and  many  are  the  absurd  stories 
still  related  of  the  General's  prodigality.  Mrs.  Knox  is  said  to 
have  had  a  penchant  for  play,  which,  it  must  be  remembered, 
was  the  rule  and  not  the  exception  of  fashionable  society  in  her 
day.  To  show  to  what  extent  this  practice  prevailed  in  the 
good  old  town  of  Boston  in  1782,  we  give  the  testimony  of 
the  high-bred  Marquis  Chastellux,  to  whom  such  scenes  were 
familiar  :  — 

"  They  made  me  play  at  whist,  for  the  first  time  since  my 
arrival  in  America.  The  cards  were  English,  that  is,  much  hand- 
somer and  dearer  than  ours,  and  we  marked  our  points  with  Louis 
d'ors.  When  the  party  was  finished  the  loss  was  not  difficult  to 
settle  ;  for  the  company  was  still  faithful  to  that  voluntary  law  estab- 
lished in  society  from  the  commencement  of  the  troubles,  which  pro- 
hibited playing  for  money  during  the  war.  This  law,  however,  was 
not  scrupulously  observed  in  the  clubs  and  parties  made  by  the  men 
themselves.  The  inhabitants  of  Boston  are  fond  of  high  play,  and 
it  is  fortunate,  perhaps,  that  the  war  happened  when  it  did  to 
moderate  this  passion,  which  began  to  be  attended  with  dangerous 
consequences." 


OLD    CHAKLESTOW^^    ROAD.  177 

When  General  Knox  was  with  the  army  under  Washington, 
in  the  neighborhood  of  New  York,  his  wife  remained  at  a  cer- 
tain town  in  Connecticut,  awaiting  an  opportunity  of  rejoining 
her  liusband  after  the  event  of  the  campaign  should  be  decided. 
Mrs.  Knox  had  for  a  companion  the  wife  of  another  Massa- 
chusetts officer.  The  person  who  let  his  hcjuse  for  a  short  time 
to  the  ladies  asserted  that,  after  their  departure,  twenty-tive  gal- 
lons of  choice  old  rum  which  he  had  in  his  cellar,  and  of  which 
Mrs.  Knox  had  the  key,  were  missing. 

It  is  not  a  little  curious  that  while  the  splendid  seat  erected 
by  Knox  after  the  war,  at  Thorn aston,  which  he  named  Mont- 
peher,  has  been  demolished,  the  old  wooden  house  in  Boston  in 
which  the  General  was  born  is  still  standing  on  Federal  Street 
(old  Sea  Street)  opposite  Drake's  Wharf,  —  that  part  of  Boston 
being  formerly  known  as  Wheeler's  Point.  General  Heath 
says  in  his  memoirs  that,  being  well  acquainted  with  Knox 
before  the  war,  he  urged  him  to  join  the  American  army,  but 
that  Knox's  removal  out  of  Boston  and  the  state  of  his  do- 
mestic concerns  required  some  arrangement,  which  he  effected 
as  soon  as  possible,  and  then  joined  his  countrymen. 

Cobble  Hill  was,  in  December,  1777,  the  quarters  of  a  por- 
tion of  Burgoyne's  troops,  who  were  suspected  of  setting  fire  to 
the  guard-house  there  at  the  same  time  a  plot  was  discovered 
on  board  one  of  the  guard-ships  in  the  harbor  for  the  release 
of  the  Bennington  prisoners. 

Joseph  Barrell  was  an  eminent  Boston  merchant,  who,  while 
a  resident  of  that  town,  had  inhabited  one  of  the  most  elegant 
old  places  to  be  found  there.  The  evidences  of  his  taste  are 
still  to  be  seen  in  the  house  which  he  built  after  the  Bevolu- 
ti<mary  War,  and  in  the  grounds  which  he  laid  out.  Barrell's 
palace,  as  it  was  called,  is  reached  by  passing  through  a  noble 
avenue,  shaded  by  elms  planted  by  the  old  merchant.  It  was 
erected  in  1792,  and  was  furnished  with  glass  of  American 
manufacture  from  the  first  works  erected  in  Boston.  The  house, 
which  is  of  brick,  does  not  demand  a  particular  description 
here,  but  is  in  all  respects  a  noble  old  mansion,  worthy  a  mag- 
nate of  the  Exchange.  The  interior  arrangement  of  the  ground- 
8*  I. 


178       HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

floor  is  unique  and  striking.  Entering  a  vestibule  opening 
into  a  spacious  hall,  across  which  springs  the  staircase,  sup- 
ported by  wooden  columns,  you  pass  under  this  bridge  into  an 
oval  reception-room  in  the  rear  of  the  building,  an  apartment 
of  elegance  even  for  our  day,  and  commanding  a  view  of  the 
gardens  and  hsh-pond  so  much  attected  by  the  old  proprietor,  — 
a  souvenir  of  the  estate  in  Summer  Street.  In  this  room  is 
hanging  a  portrait  of  McLean,  the  beneticent  founder  of  the 
asylum,  by  Alexander.  Mr.  Barrell  spared  no  expense  in 
the  interior  decorati(jn  of  his  house,  as  the  rich  woodwork 
abundantly  testilios.  He  it  was  who  tirst  introduced  the  tau- 
tog  into  Boston  liay,  a  fish  of  such  excellence  that  all  true 
disciples  of  Izaak  Walton  should  hold  his  name  in  grateful  re- 
membrance. 

Poplar  Grove,  as  Mr.  Barrell's  place  was  called,  was  pur- 
chased in  1816,  by  the  corporation  of  the  Massachusetts  General 
Hospital,  —  of  which  the  asylum  is  an  appendage,  —  of  Ben- 
jamin Joy,  and  the  Barrell  mansion  became,  and  has  ever  since 
remained,  the  residence  of  the  physician  and  superintendent. 
Eufus  AVyman,  M.  D.,  was,  from  the  first  opening  in  1818 
until  1835,  the  physician  here. 

There  is  nothing  very  imi)osing  or  inviting  in  the  appearance 
of  the  old  red  brick  buildings,  dome-capped  though  they  are ; 
but  the  site  itself  is  sufficiently  beautiful  to  compensate  for  any 
want  of  architectural  attractiveness.  Some  of  the  trees  planted 
by  Mr.  Barrell  were  cut  down  to  make  room  for  the  old  wards, 
Avhich  were  planned  without  any  ptirticular  regard  to  future 
wants  or  to  the  capabilities  of  the  situation.  It  was  remarked 
that  the  buildings  were  first  erected  to  accommodate  the  trees, 
and  the  trees  then  cut  down  to  accommodate  the  buildings. 

Here  the  poor  patients  whose  wits  are  out  may  ramble  in  the 
pleasant  paths  and  "babble  o'  green  fields."  Here  we  may  see 
a  Lear,  there  an  Ophelia,  —  old  and  young,  rich  and.  poor,  but 
with  an  equality  of  wretchedness  that  levels  all  worldly  con- 
dition. Though  dead  in  law  as  to  the  world,  we  know  not  that 
the  lives  of  the  inmates  are  a  blank,  or  that  some  mysterious 
affinity  may  not  exist  among  them.    From  the  incurable  maniac 


lechmere's  point.  170 

down  to  the  victim  of  a  single  hallucimition,  who  is  only  mad 
when  the  wind  is  north-northwest,  tlie  principles  of  an  enlarged 
philanthropy  have  been  found  to  be  i)rodiictive  of  the  most 
happy  results.  Their  former  lives  are  studied,  and,  as  far  as 
practicable,  grafted  upon  tlie  new.  Your  madhouse,  perhaps 
the  most  repulsive  of  all  eartldy  objects,  becouies,  under  wise 
and  kindly  influences,  the  medium  by  which  the  insane  are  in 
very  many  instances  returned  into  the  world.  Such  have  been 
for  flfty  years  the  fruits  of  McLean's  exalted  charity. 

Xone  but  the  antiquary,  who  is  ready  to  discartl  every  sense 
but  that  of  sight,  need  explore  the  margin  of  Miller's  lliver.  If 
he  expects  to  And  a  placid,  inviting  stream,  with  green  banks 
and  clumps  of  willows,  —  a  stream  for  poetry  or  meditation,  — 
let  him  beware.  If  he  looks  for  a  current  in  which  to  cast  a 
line,  or  where  he  may  float  in  his  skift*  and  dream  the  day  away, 
building  his  aerial  chdteaujc,  let  him  discard  all  such  ideas  and 
pass  by  on  the  other  side.  Miller's  Eiver !  faugh  I  it  smells  to 
heaven ;  not  even  the  Rhine  at  Cologne  could  surpass  it.  Such 
draughts  of  air  as  are  wafted  to  your  nostrils  from  slaughter- 
houses, where  whole  hecatombs  of  squealing  victims  are  daily 
sacrificed,  are  not  of  the  chameleon's  dish. 

Lechmere's  Point,  now  East  Cambridge,  was  so  called  from 
its  ownership  by  the  Lechmere  family.  Hon.  Thomas  Lech- 
mere,  who  died  in  1765,  was  for  many  years  Surveyor-General 
for  the  T^orthern  District  of  America,  and  brother  of  the  then 
Lord  Lechmere.  Richard  Lechmere,  a  royalist  refugee  of  1776, 
married  a  daughter  of  Lieutenant-Governor  Spencer  Phips,  and 
by  her  inherited  that  part  of  the  Phips  estate  of  which  we  are 
now  writing.  This  will  account  to  the  reader  for  the  name  of 
"  Phips's  Farm,"  which  was  sometimes  applied  to  the  Point  in 
Revolutionary  times.  About  1806  Andrew  Craigie  purchased 
the  Point.  The  site  of  the  old  farm-house,  which  was  the  only 
one  existing  there  prior  to  the  Revolution,  was  near  where  the 
Court  House  now  stands. 

This  locality  is  celebrated  as  the  landing-place  of  the  British 
grenadiers  and  light  infantry,  under  Lieutenant-Colonel  Smith, 
on  the   night  of  April   18,  1775.     It  would  not  be  unworthy 


180       HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

the  public  spirit,  of  the  citizens  of  East  Cambridge  to  erect  some 
memorial  by  wliich  this  fact  may  be  perpetuated.  At  high  tide 
the  Point  was  an  island,  connected  only  with  the  mainland  by 
a  causeway  or  dike.  Willis's  Greek  or  Miller's  River,  was  on 
the  north,  and  received  the  waters  of  a  little  rivulet  whicli 
flowed  through  the  marsh  (jn  the  west. 

The  access  to  the  Point  before  the  Revolution  was  by  a 
bridge  across  Willis's  Creek,  and  a  causeway  now  corresponding 
nearly  with  Gore  Street.  This  causeway  was  probably  little 
more  than  a  footway  slightly  raised  above  the  level  of  the 
marsh,  and  submerged  at  high  water.  The  troops  lying  on  and 
around  Prospect  Hill  were  therefore  nearest  the  Point.  Wasli- 
ington,  in  December,  1775,  built  the  causeway  now  coinciding 
with  Cambridge  Street  when  he  had  resolved  to  fortify  Lech- 
mere's  Point.  Hy  this  means  he  was  enabled  to  reinforce  the 
garrison  there  from  Cambridge  as  well  as  Charlestown  side,  and 
by  a  route  less  circuitous  than  that  leading  from  the  (;am])s 
above  and  at  Imuan's,  which,  diverging  at  Inman's,  passed 
through  his  lane  about  as  far  as  the  present  line  of  Cambridge 
Street,  when  it  curved  to  the  eastward,  crossed  the  creek,  and 
united  with  Charhistown  road  at  the  foot  of  Prospect  Hill. 

The  possession  of  a  siege-train  at  last  enabled  Washington  to 
plant  batteries  wlici-e  they  would  seriously  annoy  the  enemy  in 
Boston.  Among  the  most  important  of  these  were  the  forts 
on  Cobble  Hill  and  Lechmere's  Point. 

Lechmere's  Point  was  first  fortified  by  the  erection  of  a 
bomb-battery  on  the  night  of  November  29,  1775.  The  for- 
tunate capture  by  Captain  Manly  of  a  British  ordnance  brig  in 
Boston  Bay  gave,  among  other  valuable  stores,  a  13-inch  bras.s 
mortar  to  the  besieging  army.  Colonel  Stephen  Moylan  relates 
that  the  arrival  of  this  trophy  in  camp  was  the  occasion  of  great 
rejoicing.  The  mortar  was  placed  in  its  bed  in  front  of  the 
laboratory  on  Cambridge  Common  for  the  occasion,  and  Old 
Put,  mounted  astride  with  a  bottle  of  rum  in  his  hand,  stood 
parson,  while  Godfather  Mifflin  gave  it  the  name  of  "Congress." 

The  mortar  was  eventually  placed  in  battery  at  the  Point, 
where  Washington  had  so  far  modified  his  original  plan  of  a 


i 


lechmeke's  point.  181 

bomb-battery  only  as  to  cause  the  construction  of  two  redoubts. 
The  approach  to  the  causeway  and  bridge  leading  to  the  Point 
from  Charlestown  side  had  previously  been  secured  by  a  small 
work  on  the  main  shore.  After  constructing  a  covered  way  and 
improving  the  causeway,  —  a  task  which  a  heavy  fall  of  snow 
much  retarded,  —  Washington  directed  Putnam  to  throw  up 
the  redoubts.  The  enemy  did  not  at  first  otter  the  least  impedi- 
ment to  the  work,  and  the  General  could  only  account  for  this 
silence  by  the  supposition  that  Howe  was  meditating  some 
grand  stroke  ;  but  as  soon  as  the  Americans  had  carried  their 
covered  way  up  to  the  brow  of  the  hill  and  broke  ground  there, 
the  British  opened  a  heavy  fire,  which  continued  for  several 
days,  without,  however,  interrupting  the  work.  Owing  to  the 
frozen  condition  of  the  ground,  which  made  the  labor  one  of 
infinite  difficulty,  it  was  not  until  the  last  days  of  February 
that  the  redoubts  were  completed. 

With  proper  ordnance  the  Americans  were  now  able  to 
render  the  west  part  of  Boston,  which  was  only  half  a  mile  dis- 
tant, untenable  to  the  enemy,  and  to  drive  his  ships  and  float- 
ing-batteries, from  which  they  had  experienced  the  greatest 
annoyance,  out  of  the  river.  The  arrival  of  Colonel  Knox  with 
the  heavy  artillery  from  Ticonderoga  and  Crown  Point  supplied 
the  want  that  had  all  along  been  so  keenly  felt.  On  the  25th 
of  February,  1776,  Knox  orders  Burbeck,  his  lieutenant-colonel, 
to  arm  the  batteries  at  Lechmere's  Point  Mdth  two  18  and  two 
24  pounders,  to  be  removed  from  Prospect  Hill ;  and  on  the 
26th  Washington  announces  the  mounting  there  of  heavy 
ordnance  and  the  preparation  of  two  platforms  for  mortars,  but 
laments  the  want  of  tlie  thing  essential  to  ottensive  operations. 
An  officer  writes  in  January  of  this  poverty  of  ammunition  :  — 

"  The  bay  is  open,  —  everything  thaws  here  except  Old  Put.  He 
is  still  as  hard  as  ever  crying  out  for  powder,  powder  !  ye  gods,  give 
us  powder  ! " 

From  this  point  Boston  was  successfully  bombarded  on  the 
2d  March,  1776.  A  number  of  houses  in  what  is  now  the 
West  End  were  struck,  —  Peter  Chardon's,  in  Bowdoin  Square, 


182       HISTORIC   FIELDS  AND   MANSIONS   OF  MIDDLESEX. 

where  the  granite  church  now  stands,  being  hit  several  times. 
The  ball  which  so  long  remained  in  Brattle  Street  Church,  a 
visible  memorial  of  the  siege,  was  undoubtedly  thrown  from 
Lechmere's  Point.  The  fort  here,  which  we  are  justified  in 
considering  the  most  important  of  all  the  American  works, 
commanded  the  town  of  Boston  as  fully  as  the  hills  in  Dor- 
chester did  on  that  side.  It  was  to  resist  the  works  here  and 
on  Cobble  Hill  that  the  British  erected  batteries  on  Beacon 
Hill  and  at  Barton's  Point  in  Boston,  —  the  j^oint  where 
Craigie's  Bridge  leaves  the  shore. 

The  following  extracts  from  the  letter  of  a  British  officer 
of  rank,  begun  on  the  3d  of  March,  1776,  and  continued  in 
the  form  of  a  journal  until  the  embarkation,  give  an  account 
of  the  bombardment  and  manner  in  which  the  American  artil- 
lery was  served  by  Colonel  Knox  :  — 

"  For  the  last  six  weeks,  or  near  two  months,  we  have  been  better 
amused  than  could  possibly  be  expected  in  our  situation.  We  had  a 
theatre,  Ave  had  balls,  and  there  is  actually  a  subscription  on  foot  for 
a  niascpierade.  England  seems  to  have  forgot  us,  and  we  endeavored 
to  forget  ourselves.  But  we  were  roused  to  a  sense  of  our  situation 
last  night  in  a  manner  unpleasant  enough.  The  rebels  have  been 
erecting  for  some  time  a  bomb  battery,  and  last  night  they  began 
to  play  upon  us.  Two  shells  fell  not  far  from  me.  One  fell  upon 
Colonel  Monckton's  house  and  broke  all  the  windows,  but  luckily 
did  not  burst  until  it  had  crossed  the  street.  Many  houses  were 
damaged,  but  no  lives  lost.  What  makes  this  matter  more  provoking 
is,  that  their  barracks  are  so  scattered  and  at  such  a  distance  that  we 
cannot  disturb  them,  although  from  a  battery  near  the  water-side 
they  can  reach  us  easily. 

"  4th.  The  rebel  army  is  not  brave,  I  believe,  but  it  is  conceded  on 
all  hands  that  their  artillery  officers  are  at  least  equal  to  our  own. 
In  the  number  of  shells  that  they  flung  last  night  not  above  three 
failed.  This  morning  we  flung  four,  and  three  of  them  burst  in 
the  air. 

"  5th.  We  underwent  last  night  a  severe  cannonade,  which  dam- 
aged a  number  of  houses  and  killed  some  men." 

The  Royal  Artillery  endeavored  for  fourteen  days  unsuccess- 
fully to  silence  the  American  batteries  on  the  east  and  west  of 


lechmeee's  point.  183 

Boston.  On  the  6th  orders  were  issued  to  embark  the  artillery 
and  stores.  Colonel  Cleaveland  writes  as  follows  of  the  diffi- 
culties he  encountered  :  — 

"  The  transports  for  the  cannon,  etc.,  which  were  ordered  to  the 
wharf  were  without  a  sailor  on  board  and  half  stowed  with  lumber. 
At  the  same  time  most  of  my  heavy  camion  and  all  the  field  artil- 
lery, with  a  great  quantity  of  arms,  was  to  l)e  l)rought  in  from 
Charlestown  and  other  distant  posts.  I  was  obliged  to  send  iron 
ordnance  to  supply  their  places,  to  keep  up  a  file  on  the  enemy  and 
prevent  their  breaking  ground  on  Forster  Hill  (South  Boston).  On 
the  fifth  day  most  of  the  stores  were  on» board,  with  the  exception  of 
four  iron  mortars  and  their  beds,  weighing  near  six  tons  each.  With 
great  difficulty  I  brought  three  of  them  from  the  battery,  but  on 
getting  them  on  board  the  transport  the  blocks  gave  way,  and  a 
mortar  fell  into  the  sea,  where  1  afterwards  threw  the  other  two." 

Four  companies  of  the  3d  Battalion  of  Artillery  had  joined 
before  the  troops  left  Boston.  Until  their  arrival  there  was  not 
a  relief  for  the  men  who  were  kept  constantly  on  duty.  One 
hundred  and  fifty  vessels  were  employed  in  transporting  the 
army  and  stores  to  Halifax. 

It  was  related  by  Colonel  Burbeck  that  the  battery  contain- 
ing the  "  Congress  "  mortar  was  placed  under  the  command  of 
Colonel  David  Mason.  With  this  mortar  Mason  was  ordered 
to  set  fire  to  Boston.  His  first  shell  was  aimed  at  the  Old 
South,  and  passed  just  above  the  steeple.  The  next  shell  was 
aimed  more  accurately  at  the  roof,  which  it  would  doubtless 
have  entered  had  not  the  mortar  burst,  grievously  wounding 
the  colonel  and  killing  a  number  of  his  men.  From  this  and 
similar  accidents  at  the  batteries,  Boston  escaped  destruction. 
Through  the  inexperience  of  those  who  served  them,  four  other 
mortars  were  burst  during  the  bombardment  which  preceded 
the  occupation  of  Dorchester  Heights. 

Early  in  March  Washington  evidently  expected  an  attack, 
as  his  dispositions  were  made  with  that  view.  That  Lech- 
mere's  Point  Avas  the  object  of  his  solicitude  is  clear  from  the 
precautions  taken  to  guard  that  important  post.  Upon  any 
alarm  Patterson,  whose  regiment  garrisoned  No.  3,  was  ordered 


184       HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

to  march  to  the  Point,  leaving  a  strong  guard  in  the  work  lead- 
ing to  the  bridge.  Bond's  was  to  garrison  Cobble  Hill,  and 
Sargeant's  the  North,  South,  and  Middle  Eedoubts.  Heath's, 
Sullivan's,  (xreene's,  and  Frye's  brigades  were,  in  rotation, 
to  march  a  regiment  an  hour  before  day  into  the  works  at 
Lechmere's  Point  and  Cobble  Hill,  —  live  companies  to  the 
former  and  three  to  the  latter  post,  where  they  were  to  remain 
until  sunrise. 

The  fort  was  situated  on  the  summit  of  the  hill,  which  has 
lost  considerable  of  its  altitude,  the  southeast  angle  being  about 
where  the  old  Unitarian  Church  now  stands,  and  the  northern 
bastion  on  the  spot  now  occupied  by  Thomas  Hastings's  house, 
on  the  corner  of  4th  and  Otis  Streets  ;  the  latter  street  is  laid 
out  through  the  fort.  A  breastwork  parallel  with  the  creek  and 
flanking  it  extended  some  distance  down  the  hill. 

Lechmere's  Point  obtained  an  unenviable  reputation  as  the 
place  of  execution  for  Middlesex.  Many  criminals  were  hung 
here ;  among  others  tlie  notorious  Mike  Martin,  sometimes 
called   "the  last  of  the  highwaymen." 

Michael  Martin,  alias  Captain  Lightfoot,  after  a  chettkered 
career  as  a  highway  robber  in  Ireland,  his  native  country,  and 
in  Scotland,  became  a  fugitive  to  America  in  1819,  landing  at 
Salem,  where  he  obtained  employment  as  a  farm  laborer  of 
Elias  Hasket  Derby.  A  life  of  honest  toil  not  being  congenial, 
Martin,  after  passing  through  numerous  vicissitudes,  again  took 
to  the  road,  making  Canada  the  theatre  of  his  exploits. 

At  length,  after  committing  many  robberies  in  Vermont  and 
New  Hampshire,  Martin  arrived  at  Boston,  and  at  once  com- 
menced his  bold  operations.  His  first  and  last  victim  here  was 
Major  John  Bray  of  Boston,  who  was  stopped  and  robbed  by 
Martin  as  he  was  returning  to  town  in  his  chaise  over  the 
Medford  turnpike.  Martin  had  learned  that  there  was  to  be 
a  dinner-party  at  Governor  Brooks's  house  on  that  afternoon, 
and,  with  native  shrewdness,  had  guessed  that  some  of  the 
guests  might  be  worth  plundering. 

Martin  fled.  He  was  pursued  and  arrested  in  bed  at  Spring- 
field.     After  being  removed  to  East  Cambridge  jail,  he  was 


LECHMERES    POINT.  185 

tried,  convicted  of  highway  robbery,  and  sentenced  to  be 
hanged.  This  was  the  hrst  trial  that  had  occurred  under  the 
statute  for  such  an  offence,  and  naturally  created  great  interest. 
The  knight  of  the  road  was  perfectly  cool  during  his  trial,  and, 
after  sentence  was  pronounced,  observed  :"  "  Well,  that  is  the 
worst  you  can  do  for  me." 

While  awaiting  his  fate,  Martin  made  a  desperate  effort  to 
escape  from  prison.  He  had  succeeded  in  filing  off  the  chains 
by  which  he  was  secured,  so  that  he  could  remove  them  at 
pleasure ;  and  one  mornmg  when  Mr.  Coolidge,  the  turnkey, 
came  to  his  cell,  the  prisoner  struck  him  a  savage  blow  with  his 
irons,  and,  leaving  him  senseless  on  the  floor,  rushed  into  the 
prison  yard.  By  throwing  himself  repeatedly  and  with  great 
force  against  the  strong  oaken  gate,  Martin  at  last  emerged  into 
the  street,  but  was,  after  a  short  flight,  recaptured  and  returned 
to  his  cell.  After  this  attempt  he  was  guarded  with  greater 
vigilance,  and  suftered  the  penalty  of  his  crimes. 

Of  the  two  half-moon  batteries  which  Washington  caused  to 
be  thrown  up  in  November,  between  Lechmere's  Point  and  the 
mouth  of  Charles  Eiver,  the  vestiges  of  one  only  are  remaining. 
They  were  not  designed  for  permanent  occupation,  but  oidy  for 
occasional  use,  to  repel  an  attempt  by  the  enemy  to  land.  The 
good  taste  of  the  authorities  of  Cambridge  has  preserved  the 
little  semicircular  battery  situated  on  the  farthest  reach  of  tirm 
ground  on  the  Cambridge  shore.  It  is  protected  by  a  hand- 
some iron  fence,  composed  of  military  emblems,  and  is  called 
Fort  Washington,  —  a  name  rather  too  pretending  for  a  work 
of  this  class.  Looking  towards  Boston,  we  see  in  front  of  us 
the  southerly  side  of  the  C'ommon,  where  the  enemy  had 
erected  works.  The  battery  has  three  embrasures,  and  on  a 
tall  flagstaff  is  the  inscription  :  — 

"1775      Fort  Washington      1857 
This  battery  thrown  up  by  Washington  Nov.  1775." 

Struck  with  the  perfect  condition  of  the  earthwork,  we  found 
upon  inquiry  that  the  city  of  Cambridge  had,  about  fifteen 
years  ago,  thoroughly  restored  the  rampart,  which  was  then  in 


186       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

good  preservation.  The  guns  now  mounted  there  were,  at  that 
time,  furnished  by  the  United  States  government.  The  situ- 
ation is  very  bleak  and  exposed,  and  the  cold  north-winds  must 
have  pierced  the  poor  fellows  through  and  through  as  they 
delved  in  the  frozen  gravel  of  the  beach  to  construct  this  work. 
The  other  battery  was  probably  on  the  little  liill  where  the 
powder-magazine  now  stands. 

Having  arrived  at  the  limit  of  the  exterior  or  oliensive  lines 
between  the  Mystic  and  Charles,  we  may  briefly  sketch  the  re- 
maining positions  on  this  side,  constructed  for  defence  only,  in 
the  earlier  stages  of  the  investment.  These  lines  connected 
Prospect  Hill  with  Charles  River  by  a  series  of  detached  forts 
and  redoubts.  Of  the  former  there  were  three,  numbered  from 
right  to  left.  jS'o.  1  was  on  the  bank  of  Charles  River,  at  the 
point  where  it  makes  a  southerly  bend.  Next  was  a  redoubt 
situated  a  short  distance  south  of  the  main  street  leading  to  the 
Colleges,  and  in  the  angle  formed  by  Putnam  Street.  The  emi- 
nence is  being  levelled  as  rapidly  as  possible,  and  no  marks  of 
the  work  remain.  Connected  with  this  redoubt  were  the  Cam- 
bridge lines,  called  No.  2,  a  series  of  redans,  six  in  number,  joined 
together  by  curtains.  These  were  carried  across  the  road,  and 
up  the  slope  of  what  was  then  called  Butler's,  since  known  as 
Dana  Hill,  terminating  at  their  northerly  extrennty  in  another 
redoubt,  situated  on  the  crest  and  in  the  angle  of  Broadway  and 
Maple  Avenue,  on  the  Greenough  estate.  The  soil  being  a 
liard  clay,  the  earth  to  build  this  work  was  carried  from  the 
lower  ground  on  the  Hovey  estate  to  the  top  of  the  hill.  To 
the  north  of  Cambridge  Street  a  breastwork  was  continued  in 
a  nortlieasterly  direction  through  Mr.  C.  M.  Hovey's  nursery. 
Cannon-shot  and  other  vestiges  of  military  occupation  have 
been  unearthed  there  by  Mr.  Hovey.  A  hundred  yards  behind 
this  line,  but  of  less  extent,  was  another  rampart  of  earth,  hav- 
ing a  tenaille,  or  inverted  redan,  in  the  centre.  The  right  flank 
rested  on  the  main  road,  which  divided  the  more  advanced 
work  nearly  at  right  angles.  Remains  of  these  works  have 
existed  within  twenty-five  years. 

Continuing  to  trace  the  lines  eastward,  —  their  general  direc- 


Putnam's  headquarters.  187 

tion  being  from  east  to  west, — we  find  that  two  little  half- 
moons  were  thrown  up  on  each  side  of  the  Charlestown  road  at 
the  point  where  it  crossed  the  west  branch  of  Willis's  Creek. 

Xo.  3  lay  to  the  soutlnvest  of  Prospect  Hill,  a  little  south  of 
the  point  where  the  main  road  from  Charlestown  (Washington 
Street)  was  intersected  by  that  from  Medford  and  Menotomy, 
and  which  pass  it  was  designed  to  defend.  It  was  a  .strong, 
well-constructed  work,  and  should  be  placed  very  near  Union 
Square,  in  Somerville.  These  defences  Avere,  for  the  most  part, 
planned  by  Richard  Gridley,  the  veteran  engineer,  assisted  by 
his  son  and  by  Captain  Josiah  Waters,  of  Boston,  and  Captain 
Jonathan  Baldwin,  of  Brookfield,  afterwards  colonel  of  engi- 
neers. Colonel  Knox  occasionally  lent  his  aid  before  receiving 
his  rank  in  the  army. 

In  coming  from  Charlestown  or  Lechmere's  Point  by  the  old 
county  road  hitherto  described,  and  before  the  day  of  bridges 
had  created  what  is  now  Cambridgeport  out  of  the  marshes,  the 
first  object  of  interest  was  the  farm  of  Ealph  Inman,  a  well-to- 
do,  retired  merchant  of  the  capital.  His  mansion-house  and 
outbuildings  formed  a  small  hamlet,  and  stood  in  the  angle  of 
the  road  as  it  turned  sharp  to  the  right  and  stretched  away  to 
the  Colleges. 

The  world  would  not  have  cared  to  know  who  Ralph  Inman 
was  had  not  his  house  become  interwoven  with  the  history  of 
the  siege  as  the  headquarters  of  that  rough,  fiery  genius,  Israel 
Putnam.  It  could  not  have  been  better  situated,  in  a  military 
view,  for  Old  Put's  residence.  The  General's  own  regiment 
and  most  of  the  Connecticut  troops  lay  encamped  near  at  hand 
in  Inman's  green  fields  and  fragrant  pine  woods.  It  was  but  a 
short  gallop  to  the  commander-in-chief's,  or  to  the  posts  on  the 
river.  Remove  all  the  houses  that  now  intervene  between 
Inman  Street  and  the  Charles,  and  we  see  that  the  gallant  old 
man  had  crouched  as  near  the  enemy  as  it  was  possible  for  him 
to  do,  and  lay  like  a  watch-dog  at  the  door  of  the  American 
lines. 

Ralph  Inman  was,  of  course,  a  royalist.  Xature  does  not 
more  certainly  abhor  a  vacuum  than  does  your  man  of  sul> 


188       HISTORIC   FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

stance  a  revolution.  Strong  domestic  ties  bound  him  to  his 
allegiance.  He  was  of  the  Church  of  England  too,  and  his 
associates  were  cast  in  the  same  tory  mould  with  himself.  He 
had  been  a  merchant  in  Boston  in  1764,  and  the  agent  of  Sir 
Charles  Frankland  when  that  gentleman  went  abroad.  He 
kept  his  coach  and  his  liveried  servants  for  state  occasions,  and 
the  indispensable  four-wheeled  chaise  universally  affected  by 
the  gentry  of  his  day  for  more  ordinary  use.  If  he  was  not  a 
Scotsman  by  descent,  we  have  not  read  aright  the  meaning  of 
the  thistle,  which  Inman  loved  to  see  around  him. 

The  house  had  a  plain  outside,  unostentatious,  but  speak- 
ing eloquently  of  solid  comfort  and  good  cheer  within.  It 
was  of  wood,  of  three  stories,  with  a  pitched  roof.  From  his 
veranda  Inman  had  an  unobstructed  outlook  over  the  mead- 
ows, the  salt  marshes,  and  across  the  bay,  to  the  town  of 
Boston.  What  really  claim  our  admiration  about  this  estate 
were  the  trees  by  which  it  was  glorified,  and  of  which  a  few 
noble  elms  have  been  spared.  Approaching  such  a  house,  as  it 
lay  environed  by  shrubbery  and  screened  from  the  noonday 
sun  by  its  giant  guardians,  with  the  tame  pigeons  perched 
upon  the  parapet  and  the  domestic  fowls  cackling  a  noisy  re- 
frain in  the  barn-yard,  you  would  have  said,  "  Here  is  good 
old-fashioned  thrift  and  hospitality  ;  let  us  enter,"  and  you 
would  not  have  done  ill  to  let  instant  execution  follow  the 
happy  thought. 

Besides  his  tory  neighbors  —  and  at  the  time  of  which  we 
write  what  we  now  call  Old  Cambridge  was  parcelled  out 
among  a  dozen  of  these  —  Inman  was  a  good  deal  visited  by 
the  loyal  faction  of  the  town.  The  officers  of  his  Majesty's 
army  and  navy  liked  to  ride  out  to  Inman's  to  dine  or  sup,  and 
one  of  them  lost  his  heart  there. 

John  Linzee,  captain  of  H.  M.  ship  Beaver,  met  with  Sukey 
Inman  (Ralph's  eldest  daughter)  in  some  royalist  coterie,  — 
as  like  as  not  at  the  house  of  her  bosom  friend,  Lucy  Flucker, 
—  and  found  his  heart  pierced  through  and  through  by  her 
bright  glances.  He  struck  his  flag,  and,  being  incapable  of 
resistance,  became  Sukey's  lawful  prize.     He  came  with  Dal- 


PUTNAM'S    HEADQUARTERS.  181) 

rymple,  Montague,  and  his  brother  officers  ostensibly  to  sij:) 
Ralph's  mulled  port  or  Vidania,  but  really,  as  we  may  believe, 
to  see  the  daughter  of  the  house.  For  some  unknown  cause 
the  father  did  not  favor  Linzee's  suit.  There  was  an  aunt 
whom  Sukey  visited  in  town,  and  to  whose  house  the  gallant 
captain  had  the  open  sesame,  but  who  manoeuvred,  as  only 
aunts  in  1772  (and  they  have  not  forgot  their  cunning)  knew 
liow,  to  keep  the  lovers  apart. 

But  John  Linzee  was  no  faint-heart,  and  he  married  Sukey 
Inman.  George  Inman,  her  brother,  entered  the  British  army. 
Linzee  commanded  the  Falcon  at  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill, 
where  he  did  us  all  the  mischief  he  could,  and  figured  else- 
where on  our  coasts.  In  1789  he  happened  again  to  cast 
anchor  in  Boston  harbor,  and  opened  his  batteries  this  time 
with  a  peaceful  salute  to  the  famous  stars  and  stripes  flying 
from  the  Castle.  It  is  well  known  that  Prescott,  the  historian, 
married  a  granddaughter  of  Captain  Linzee. 

The  interior  of  Inman's  house  possessed  no  striking  features. 
It  was  roomy,  but  so  low-studded  that  you  could  easily  reach 
the  ceilings  with  your  hand  when  standing  upright.  The  deej) 
fireplaces,  capacious  cupboards,  and  secret  closets  w'ere  all 
there.  Our  last  visit  to  the  mansion  was  to  find  it  divided 
asunder,  and  being  rolled  away  to  another  part  of  the  town, 
where  we  have  no  wish  to  follow.  It  was  not  a  pleasant  sio-ht 
to  see  this  old  house  thus  mutilated,  with  its  halls  agape  and 
its  cosey  bedchambers  literally  turned  out  of  doors,  —  a  veri- 
table wreck  ashore. 

Inman   was  arrested   in  1776.      He  had  been  of  the  kino's 

o 

council  and  an  addresser  of  Hutchinson.  He  became  a  refugee 
in  Boston,  and  his  mansion  passed  into  the  custody  of  the  Pro- 
vincial Congress,  who  assigned  it  to  General  Putnam. 

Putnam,  as  we  remember,  commanded  the  centre  of  tlie 
American  position,  comprising  the  works  and  camps  in  Cam- 
bridge. The  commission  of  major-general  was  then  no  sine- 
cure, and  we  may  opine  that  Old  Put  had  his  hands  busily 
employed.  Those  long  'summer  days  of  1775  were  full  of  (;arH 
and  toil,  but  the  summer  evenings  were  not  less  glorious  than 


190       HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

now,  and  the  General  must  have  often  sat  on  the  refugee's 
lawn,  watching  the  camp-fires  of  the  investing  army,  or  tracing 
in  the  heavens  the  course  of  some  fiery  ambassador  from  the 
hostile  shore. 

One  day  while  Putnam  was  on  Prospect  Hill  he  summoned 
all  his  captains  to  headquarters.  It  was  stated  to  them  that  a 
hazardous  service  was  contemplated,  for  which  one  of  their 
number  Avas  desired  to  ^xilunteer.  A  candidate  stepped  for- 
ward, eager  to  signalize  himself.  A  draft  of  six  men  from  each 
company  was  then  made.  At  the  appointed  time  the  chosen 
band  appeared  before  the  General's  quarters,  fully  armed  and 
equipped.  Old  Put  complimented  their  appearance  and  com- 
mended their  spirit.  He  then  ordered  every  man  to  lay  aside 
his  arms  for  an  axe,  and  directed  their  marcdi  to  a  neighboring 
swamp  to  cut  fascines. 

When  Putnam  M^as  with  Amherst  in  Canada,  tliat  general,  to 
his  great  annoyance,  found  that  the  French  had  a  vessel  of 
twelve  guns  stationed  on  a  lake  he  meant  to  pass  over  with  his 
army.  Wliile  pondering  u])on  the  unexpected  dilemma  he  was 
accosted  by  Putnam  with  the  remark,  "  General,  that  ship  must 
be  taken."  "  Ay,"  says  Amherst,  "  I  'd  give  the  world  she 
were  taken."  "  I  '11  take  her,"  says  Old  Put.  "  Give  me  some 
wedges,  a  beetle,  and  a  few  men  of  my  own  choice."  Amherst, 
though  unable  to  see  how  the  ship  was  to  be  taken  by  such 
means,  willingly  complied.  At  night  Putnam  took  a  boat,  and, 
gaining  the  ship's  stern  unperceived,  with  a  few  quick  blows 
drove  his  wedges  in  such  a  manner  as  to  disable  the  rudder. 
In  the  morning  the  vessel,  being  unmanageable,  came  ashore, 
and  was  taken. 

With  the  single  exception  of  Washington  there  is  not  a 
name  on  the  roll  of  the  Eevolution  more  honored  in  the  popu- 
lar heart  than  that  of  Putnam.  He  was  emphatically  a  man  of 
action  and  of  purpose.  At  what  time  he  received  his  famous 
sobriquet  we  are  unable  to  say,  but  he  was  Old  Put  at  Cam- 
bridge, and  will  be  to  posterity. 

We  can  imagine  the  young  fledglings  of  the  army  calling  the 
then  gray-haired  veteran  by  this  familiar  nickname,  but  when 


PUTNAM'S    HEADQUARTERS.  191 

it  comes  to  the  dignitied  commander-iii-chief,  it  shows  us  not 
only  that  lie  had  a  grim  sense  of  the  humorous,  but  that  he  was 
capable  of  relaxing  a  little  from  his  habitual  dignity  of  thought 
and  expression.  "  I  suppose,"  says  Joseph  Reed,  in  a  letter  to 
Washington,  —  "I  suppose  '  Old  Put '  was  to  command  the  de- 
tachment intended  for  Boston  on  the  5th  instant,  as  I  do  not 
know  of  any  officer  but  himself  who  could  have  been  depended 
on  for  so  hazardous  a  service."  And  the  General  replies  :  "  The 
four  thousand  men  destined  for  Boston  on  the  5th,  if  the  minis- 
terialists had  attempted  our  works  at  Dorchester  or  the  lines  at 
Roxbury,  were  to  have  been  headed  by  Old  Pat." 

He  had  nearly  attained  threescore  when  the  war  broke  out, 
but  the  fires  which  a  life  filled  with  extraordinary  adventures 
had  not  dimmed  still  burned  brightly  in  the  old  man's  breast. 
Only  think  of  a  sexagenarian  so  stirred  at  the  scent  of  battle  as 
to  mount  his  horse  and  gallop  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles  to  the 
scene  of  conflict.  Whether  we  remember  him  in  the  wolf's 
lair,  at  the  Indian  torture,  or  fighting  for  his  country,  we 
recognize  a  spirit  which  knew  not  fear  and  never  blenched  at 
danger. 

If  the  General  sometimes  swore  big  oaths,  —  and  we  are  not 
disposed  to  dispute  it,  —  they  were,  in  a  measure,  inocuous  ; 
such,  for  example,  as  Uncle  Toby  used  at  the  bedside  of  the 
dying  lieutenant.  Your  camp  is  a  sad  leveller,  and  though  the 
Continental  officers  could  not  have  had  a  more  correct  example 
than  their  illustrious  chief,  yet  it  was  much  the  fashion  among 
gentlemen  of  quality  of  that  day,  and  especially  such  as  em- 
braced the  military  profession,  to  indulge  themselves  in  a  little 
j)rofanity.  Say  what  M'-e  will,  our  AVashingtons  and  our  Have- 
locks  are  the  7'ara  aves  of  the  cam]).  We  have  history  for  it 
that  "  our  army  swore  terribly  in  Flanders."  We  believe  the 
Revolution  furnishes  a  similar  example  ;  and  we  fear  the  Great 
Rebellion  tells  the  same  story. 

It  was  perhaps  to  remedy  this  tendency,  and  that  the 
spiritual  wants  of  the  soldiery  might  not  suffer,  that  a  prayer 
was  composed  by  Rev.  Abiel  Leonard,  chaplain  to  General  Put- 
nam's regiment,  and  printed  by  the  Messrs.  Hall  in  Harvard 


192      HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

College  in  1775.     Putnam  was  no  courtier,  but  brusque,  hearty, 
and  honest, 
been  his  own 


and  honest.     The  words  attributed  to  the  Moor  might  have 


"  Rude  am  I  in  my  speech, 
And  little  blessed  with  the  set  phrase  of  peace  ; 
For  since  these  arms  of  mine  had  seven  years'  pith, 
Till  now  some  nine  moons  wasted,  they  have  used 
Their  dearest  action  in  the  tented  field. " 

Putnam's  summer  costume  was  a  waistcoat  without  sleeves 
for  his  upper  garment.  Across  his  brawny  shoulders  was 
thrown  a  broad  leathern  belt,  from  which  depended  a  hanger, 
and  thus  he  appeared  as  he  bestrode  his  horse  among  the 
camps  at  Cambridge.  Those  sneering  Marylanders  scouted  this 
carelessness  in  the  bluff  old  captain's  attire,  and  said  he  was 
much  better  to  head  a  band  of  sicklemen  or  ditchers  than 
musketeers. 

The  day  following  the  battle  of  Hunker  Hill,  a  young  lady 
who  had  been  assisting  Dr.  Eustis  in  the  care  of  our  wounded 
wished  to  send  a  letter  to  her  parents  in  Boston.  Her  heart 
was  full  of  anguish  at  the  death  of  Warren,  and  her  pen  un- 
skilled in  cold  set  phrase.  The  officer  at  the  lines  to  whom 
she  handed  her  missive,  in  order  that  it  might  go  in  with  the 
first  flag,  returned  it,  saying,  "  It  is  too  d — d  saucy."  The  lady 
went  to  General  Ward,  who  advised  her  to  soften  the  expres- 
sions a  little.  General  Putnam,  who  was  sitting  by,  read  the 
letter  attentively,  and  exclaimed,  "  It  shall  go  in  if  I  send  it  at 
the  mouth  of  a  (cannon  !  "  He  demanded  a  pass  for  it,  and  the 
fair  writer  received  an  answer  from  her  friends  within  forty- 
eight  hours. 

Putnam's  old  sign  of  General  Wolfe,  which  he  displayed 
when  a  tavern-keeper  at  Brooklyn,  Connecticut,  is  still  pre- 
served. 

Before  we  depart  from  Cambridgeport  the  reader  will  permit 
us  a  pilgrimage  to  the  homes  of  Margaret  FuUer  and  Washing- 
ton AUston.  Margaret  was  born  in  a  house  now  standing  in 
Cherry  Street,  on  the  corner  of  Eaton  Street,  with  three  splen- 
did elms  in  front,  planted  by  her  father  on  her  natal  day.     The 


Putnam's  headquarters.  193 

large  square  building,  placed  on  a  brick  basement,  is  removed 
about  twenty  feet  back  from  the  street.  It  is  of  wood,  of  three 
stories,  has  a  veranda  at  the  front  reached  by  a  flight  of  steps, 
and  a  large  L,  and  now  appears  to  be  inhabited  by  several 
families.  Miss  Fuller  went  to  Edward  Dickinson's  school,  situ- 
ated in  Main  Street,  nearly  opposite  Inman,  where  Rev.  8.  K. 
Lothrop  and  0.  W.  Holmes  were  her  classmates.  Her  lather, 
Timothy  Fuller,  and  herself  are  still  remembered  by  the  elder 
people  wending  their  way  on  a  Sabbath  morn  to  the  old  brick 
church  of  Mr.  Gannett. 

Allston  lived  in  a  house  at  the  corner  of  Magazine  and 
Auburn  Streets.  His  studio  was  nearly  opposite  his  dwelling, 
in  the  rear  of  the  Baptist  church,  in  a  building  erected  for 
him.  It  was  confidently  asserted  by  Americans  in  England, 
that  had  Allston  remained  there  he  might  have  reached  a  high 
position  in  the  Royal  Academy ;  but  he  was  devotedly  attached 
to  his  country  and  to  a  choice  circle  of  highly  prized  friends  at 
home. 

Allston  realized  whatever  prices  he  chose  to  ask  for  his  pic- 
tures. Stuart  only  demanded  $150  for  a  kit-kat  portrait  and 
1 100  for  a  bust,  but  Allston's  prices  were  much  higher.  Being 
asked  by  a  lady  if  he  did  not  require  rest  after  finishing  a  work, 
he  replied  :  "  No,  I  only  require  a  change.  After  I  finish  a 
portrait  I  paint  a  landscape,  and  then  a  portrait  again."  He 
delighted  in  his  art. 

He  was  received  in  Boston  on  his  return  from  England  with 
every  mark  of  affection  and  respect,  and  his  society  was  courted 
in  the  most  intelligent  and  cultivated  circles.  Even  the  young 
ladies,  the  belles  of  the  period,  appreciated  the  polish  and 
charm  of  his  manners  and  address,  and  were  weU  pleased  when 
he  made  choice  of  one  of  them  as  a  partner  in  a  cotillon,  then 
the  fashionable  dance  at  evening  parties. 

Besides  his  immediate  and  gifted  family  connections,  Allston 
was  much  attached  to  Isaac  P.  Davis  and  Loammi  Baldwin, 
the  eminent  engineer.  The  painting  of  "  Elijah  in  the  Wilder- 
ness "  remained  at  the  house  of  the  former  in  Boston  until  it 
was  purchased  by  Labouchiere,  who  saw  it  there.     It  has  been 

9  M 


194       HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS   OF    MIDDLESEX. 

repurchased  by  Mrs.  S.  Hooper,  and  is  now  in  the  Athenaeum 
Gallery.  Xo  distinguished  stranger  went  away  from.  Boston 
without  seeing  Allston ;  among  others  he  was  visited  by  Mrs. 
Jameson,  who  was  taken  by  the  artist  to  his  studio,  where  he 
exhibited  to  her  several  of  his  unfinished  works  and  sketches. 
It  was  a  most  interesting  interview. 

AUston's  "  Jeremiah,"  an  immense  canvas,  with  figures  larger 
than  life,  was  ordered  by  Miss  Gibbs.  "  Saul  and  the  Witch 
of  Endor "  and  "  A  Bookseller  and  a  Poet "  were  painted  for 
Hon.  T.  H.  Perkins.  "  Miriam  on  the  Shore  of  the  Ped  Sea," 
a  magnificent  work,  with  figures  nearly  life-size,  was  executed 
for  Hon.  David  Sears.  The  "  Angel  appearing  to  Peter  in 
Prison  "  was  painted  for  Dr.  Hooper.  A  landscape  and  exqui- 
site ideal  portrait,  finished  for  Hon.  Jonathan  Phillips,  were 
destroyed  in  the  great  fire  of  1872.  "  Posalie,"  an  ideal  por- 
trait, was  painted  for  Hon.  N.  Appleton.  *'  The  Valentine," 
another  ideal  subject,  became  the  property  of  Professor  Ticknor. 
"  Amy  Eobsart "  Avas  done  for  John  A.  Lowell,  Esq.  Besides 
these  the  painter  executed  works  for  Hon.  Jonathan  Mason,  N. 
Amory,  F.  C.  Gray,  Richard  Sullivan,  Loammi  Baldwin,  —  for 
whom  the  exquisite  "  Florimel "  of  Spenser  was  painted,  — 
Theodore  Lyman,  Samuel  A.  Eliot,  Warren  Dutton,  and  others. 
This  catalogue  will  serve  to  show  who  were  Allston's  patrons. 
For  each  subject  the  price  varied  from  seven  to  fifteen  hundred 
dollars.  About  1830  a  number  of  Boston  gentlemen  advanced 
the  artist  $  10,000  for  his  unfinished 


A   DAY   AT   HAKVARD.  195 


CHAPTER     IX. 

A  DAY  AT  HARVARD. 

"  Ye  fields  of  Cambridge,  our  dear  Cambridge,  say 
Have  you  not  seen  us  walking  every  day  ? 
Was  there  a  tree  about  which  did  not  know 
Tlie  love  betwixt  us  two  (  " 

CAMBRIDGE  seems  to  realize  the  injunction  of  a  sagacious 
statesman  of  antic[uity  :  "  If  you  would  have  your  city 
loved  by  its  citizens,  you  must  make  it  lovely." 

The  location  of  this  settlement  was,  according  to  Governor 
Dudley,  due  to  apprehensions  of  the  French,  which  caused  the 
colonists  to  seek  an  inland  situation.  They  decided  to  call  it 
Newtown,  but  in  1638  the  name  was  changed  in  honor  of  the 
old  English  university  town.  Cambridge  was  made  a  port 
of  entry  in  1805,  hence  Cambridgeport.  It  became  a  city 
in  1846. 

The  broad,  leA^el  plain  where  Winthrop,  Dudley,  Bradstreet, 
and  the  rest  bivouacked  in  the  midst  of  the  stately  forest  in 
1631,  and  looked  upon  it  as 

"That  wild  where  weeds  and  flowers  promiscuous  shoot"; 

where  they  posted  their  trusty  servants,  with  lighted  match,  at 
the  verge  of  the  encampment,  and  the  moon's  rays  glittered  on 
steel  cap  and  corselet ;  where  they  nightly  fcjlded  their  herds 
within  the  chain  of  sentinels,  until  they  had  liedged  themselves 
round  about  with  palisades ;  where  they  rept^ated  their  simple 
prayers  and  sung  their  evening  hymn ;  where  learning  erected 
her  first  temple  in  the  wilderness ;  and  Avhere  a  host  of  armed 
men  sprung  forth,  Minerva-like,  ready  for  action,  —  the  abode 
of  the  Muses,  the  domain  of  Letters,  —  this  is  our  present  walk 
among  the  habitations  of  the  living  and  the  dead. 


196        HISTOIllC    FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

Old  William  Wood,  author  of  the  first  printed  account  of 
Massachusetts,  says  :  — 

"  Newtown  w^as  first  intended  for  a  city,  but  upon  more  serious 
consideration,  it  was  thought  not  so  fit,  being  too  far  from  the  sea  ; 
being  the  greatest  inconvenience  it  hath.  This  is  one  of  the  neatest 
and  best  compacted  towns  in  New  England,  having  many  fair  struc- 
tures, with  many  handsome  contrived  streets.  The  inhabitants  most 
of  them  are  very  rich." 

Old  Cambridge  a  hundred  years  after  its  settlement  was,  as 
we  have  mentioned,  the  peculiar  abode  of  a  dozen  wealthy  and 
aristocratic  families.  Their  possessions  were  as  extensive  as 
their  purses  were  long  and  their  loyalty  approved.  They  were 
of  the  English  Church,  were  intermarried,  and  had  every  tie  — 
social  position,  blood,  politics,  religion,  and  we  know  not  what 
else  —  to  bind  them  together  in  a  distinct  community.  The  old 
Puritan  stock  had  mostly  dispersed.  Many  had  passed  into 
Connecticut,  others  into  Boston ;  and  still  others,  finding  their 
ancient  limits  much  too  narrow,  had,  in  the  language  of  that 
day,  "  sat  down  "  in  what  are  now  Arlington  and  Lexington, 
and  were  long  known  distinctively  as  the  "  farmers."  These 
latter,  with  the  fragment  still  adhering  to  the  skirts  of  the  an- 
cient village,  had  their  meeting-house  and  the  College,  which 
they  still  kept  free  from  heresy,  —  not,  however,  without  con- 
tinual w^atchfulness,  nor  without  attempts  on  the  part  of  the 
Episcopalians  to  obtain  a  foothold. 

It  was  believed  before  the  Revolution  that  the  Ministry 
seriously  contemplated  the  firmer  establishment  of  the  Church 
of  England  by  creating  bishoprics  in  the  colonies,  —  a  measure 
which  was  warmly  opposed  by  the  Congregational  clergy  in  and 
out  of  the  pulpit.  Tithes  and  ceremonials  were  the  bugbears 
used  to  stimulate  the  opposition  and  arouse  the  prejudices  of 
the  populace.  Controversy  ran  high,  and  caricatures  appeared, 
in  one  of  which  the  expected  bishop  is  seen  taking  refuge  on 
board  a  departing  vessel,  while  a  mob  on  the  wharf  is  pushing 
the  bark  from  shore  and  pelting  the  unfortunate  ecclesiastic 
with  treatises  of  national  laAv. 

The    large    square    wooden   house    which   stands    on    Main 


A   DAY   AT    HAKVARD.  197 

Street,  directly  opposite  Gore  Hall,  was  built  by  the  Rev.  East 
Aptliorp,  D.  D.,  son  of  Charles  Apthorp,  an  eminent  Boston 
merchant  of  Welsh  descent.  It  was  probably  erected  in  1761, 
the  year  in  which  Dr.  Apthorp  was  settled  in  Cambridge,  and 
was  regarded,  on  account  of  its  elegance  and  proximity  to  the 
University,  with  peculiar  distrust  by  Mayhew  and  his  orthodox 
contemporaries.  It  was  thought  that  if  the  ministerial  plan 
was  carried  out  Dr.  Apthorp  had  an  eye  to  the  Episcopate,  and 
his  mansion  was  alluded  to  as  "  the  palace  of  one  of  the  humble 
successors  of  the  Apostles."  So  uncomfortable  did  his  antag- 
onists render  his  ministry,  that  Dr.  Apthorp  gave  up  his  charge 
and  removed  to  England  in  the  latter  part  of  1764. 

The  pleasant  old  house  seems  next  to  have  been  occupied  by 
John  Borland,  a  merchant  of  the  capital,  who  abandoned  it  on 
the  breaking  out  of  hostilities,  and  took  refuge  in  Boston,  where 
he  died  the  same  year  (1775)  from  the  effects  of  a  fall. 

Under  the  new  order  of  things  the  mansion  became  the 
headquarters  of  the  Connecticut  troops,  with  Old  Put  at  their 
head,  on  their  arrival  at  Cambridge,  and  Putnam  probably  re- 
mained there  until  after  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill.  It  con- 
tinued a  barrack,  occupied  by  three  companies,  until  finally 
cleared  and  taken  possession  of  by  the  Committee  of  Safety, 
the  then  executive  authority  of  the  province. 

Its  next  inhabitant  was  "John  Burgoyne,  Esquire,  lieu- 
tenant-general of  his  Majesty's  armies  in  America,  colonel 
of  the  queen's  regiment  of  light  dragoons,  governor  of  Fort 
William  in  Xorth  Britain,  one  of  the  representatives  of  the 
Commons  of  Great  Britain,  and  commanding  an  army  and  fleet 
on  an  expedition  from  Canada,"  etc.,  etc.,  etc.  Such  is  a  faitli- 
ful  enumeration  of  the  titles  of  this  illustrious  Gascon  as  pre- 
fixed to  his  bombastic  proclamation,  and  which  must  have  left 
the  herald  breathless  long  ere  he  arrived  at  the  "Whereas." 
For  a  pithy  history  of  the  campaign  which  led  to  Burgoyne's 
enforced  residence  here,  commend  us  to  the  poet :  — 

"  Burgoyne  gaed  up,  like  spur  an'  whip, 
Till  Fraser  brave  did  fa',  man  ; 
Then  lost  his  way  ae  misty  day, 
In  Si/rif for/a  sliaw.  man." 


198       HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

The  house  fronts  towards  Mount  Auburn  Street,  and  over- 
looked the  river  when  Cambridge  was  yet  a  conservative,  old- 
fashioned  country  town.  That  street  was  then  the  high-road, 
which  wound  around  the  foot  of  the  garden,  making  a  sharp 
curve  to  the  north  where  it  is  now  joined  by  Harvard  Street. 
It  was,  therefore,  no  lack  of  respect  to  the  Kev.  Edward  Holy- 
oke,  the  inhabitant  of  the  somewhat  less  pretending  dwelling 
of  the  College  presidents,  that  caused  Dr.  Apthorp  to  turn  his 
back  in  his  direction. 

The  true  front  bears  a  strong  family  resemblance  to  the 
Vassall-Longfellow  mansion,  the  design  of  which  was  perhaps 
followed  by  the  architect  of  this.  The  wooden  balustrade 
which  surmounted,  and  at  the  same  time  relieved,  the  bare 
outline  of  the  roof  was  swept  away  in  the  great  September  gale 
of  1815.  A  third  story,  which  makes  the  house  look  like  an 
ill-assorted  pair  joined  in  matrimonial  bands  for  life,  is  said  to 
be  the  work  of  Mr.  Borland,  who  required  additional  space  for 
his  household  slaves.  The  line  of  the  old  cornice  shows  where 
the  roof  was  separated  from  the  original  structure.  The  posi- 
tion of  the  outbuildings,  now  huddled  together  in  close  con- 
tact with  the  house,  has  been  changed  by  the  stress  of  those 
circumstances  which  have  from  time  to  time  denuded  the  estate 
of  portions  of  its  ancient  belongings.  The  clergyman's  grounds 
extended  to  Holyoke  Street  on  the  one  hand,  and  for  an  equal 
distance  on  the  other,  and  were  entered  by  the  carriage-drive 
from  the  side  of  Harvard  Street. 

As  it  now  stands,  about  equidistant  from  the  avenues  in 
front  and  rear,  it  seems  a  patrician  of  the  old  regime,  withdraw- 
ing itself  instinctively  from  contact  with  its  upstart  neighbors. 
The  house  which  John  Adams's  apprehensions  converted  into  a 
Lambeth  Palace  was,  happily  for  its  occupant,  never  the  seat 
of  an  Episcopal  see,  or  it  might  have  shared  the  fate  with  whicli 
Wat  Tyler's  bands  visited  the  ancient  castellated  residence  of 
the  Archbishops  of  Canterbury. 

We  found  the  interior  of  the  house  worthy  of  inspection. 
There  is  a  broad,  generous  hall,  with  its  staircase  railed  in  with 
the  curiously  wrought  balusters,  which  the  taste  of  the  times 


A    DAY    AT   HARVARD.  190 

required  to  be  different  in  form  and  design.  A  handsome  re- 
ception-room opens  at  the  left,  a  library  at  the  right.  The  for- 
mer was  the  state  apartment,  and  a  truly  elegant  one.  The 
ceilings  are  high,  and  the  wainscots,  panels,  and  mouldings 
were  enriched  with  carvings.  The  fireplace  has  still  the  blue 
Dutch  tiles  with  their  Scripture  allegories,  and  the  ornament;d 
fire-l)ack  is  in  its  place. 

Directly  above  is  the  state  chamber,  a  luxurious  apartment 
within  and  without.  We  say  without,  for  we  looked  down 
upon  the  gardens,  with  their  box-bordered  walks  and  their  un- 
folding beauties  of  leaf  and  flower,  —  the  fruit-trees  dressed  in 
bridal  blossoms,  the  Pyrus  Japonica  in  its  gorgeous  crimson 
bloom,  Avith  white-starred  Spiraea  and  Deutzia  gracilis  en- 
shrouded  in  their  fragrant  mists. 

"  A  brave  old  house  !  a  garden  full  of  bees, 
Large  dropping  poppies,  and  queen  hollyhocks, 
With  butterflies  for  crowns,  —  tree  peonies, 
And  pinks  and  goldilocks." 

In  this  bedchamber,  which  wooed  the  slumbers  of  the 
sybarite  Burgoyne,  the  walls  are  formed  in  panels,  ornamented 
with  paper  representing  fruit,  landscapes,  ruins,  etc., —  a  species 
of  decoration  both  rare  and  costly  at  the  period  when  the  house 
was  built.  Mr.  Jonathan  Simpson,  Jr.,  who  married  a  daughter 
of  Mr.  Borland,  became  the  proprietor  after  the  old  war.  Mrs. 
Manning,  the  present  occupant,  has  lived  to  see  many  changes 
from  her  venerable  roof,  and  the  prediction  that  her  prospect 
would  never  be  impaired  answered  by  the  overtopping  walls  of 
contiguous  buildings. 

We  crave  the  reader's  indulgence  while  we  return  for  a 
moment  upon  our  own  footsteps  to  Dana  Hill,  up(m  which  we 
have  hitherto  traced  the  defensive  lines.  The  family  for  whom 
the  eminence  is  named  have  been  distinguished  in  law,  politics, 
and  letters,  —  from  Richard  Dana,  of  pre-ltevolutionary  fame, 
to  his  descendants  of  to-day. 

The  Dana  mansion,  surrounded  by  beautiful  grounds,  for- 
merly stood  some  two  hundred  feet  back  from  the  present 
Main  Street,  and  between  EUery  and  Dana  Streets.      It  was  a 


200       HISTOKIC    FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 


wooden  house,  of  two  stories,  not  unlike  in  general  appearance 
that  of  Mr.  Longfellow,  but  was  many  years  since  destroyed 
by  fire. 

Judge  Francis  Dana,  a  law-student  with  Trowbridge,  and 
who  was  succeeded  as  chief  justice  of  Massachusetts  by  The- 
ophilus  Parsons,  filled  many  positions  of  high  trust  and  respon- 
sibility both  at  home  and  abroad.  The  name  of  Ellery  Street 
happily  recalls  that  of  the  family  of  Mrs.  Judge  Dana.  With 
the  career  of  Richard  H.  Dana,  poet  and  essayist,  son  of  the 
judge,  and  with  that  of  the  younger  Richard  H.  and  Edmund 
his  brother,  grandsons  of  the  jurist,  the  public  are  familiar. 

When  William  Ellery  Channing  was  an  undergraduate  he 
resided  in  the  family  mansion  of  the  Danas,  the  wife  of  the 
chief  justice  being  his  maternal  aunt.  It 
is  said  that,  although  half  a  mile  distant 
from  college,  he  was  always  punctual  at 
prayers,  which  were  then  at  six  o'clock 
through  the  whole  year. 

Between    Arrow    and    Mount    Auburn 


Streets  was  the  estate  of  David  Phij^s,  the 
sheriff  of  Middlesex,  colonel  of  the  gover- 
nor's troop  and  son  of  Lieutenant-Governor 
Spencer  Phips.  A  proscribed  royalist,  his 
house,  some  time  a  hospital,  was  afterwards 
the  residence  of  William  Winthrop,  and 
is  now  standing  in  fair  preservation.  The 
estate  is  more  interesting  to  the  antiquary 
as  that  of  Major-General  Daniel  Gookin,  Indian  superintendent 
in  the  time  of  Eliot,  and  one  of  the  licensers  of  the  printing- 
press  in  16G2,  —  an  office  supposed  not  to  have  been  too  arduous 
in  his  time,  and  not  considered  compatible  with  liberty  in  our 
own.  What  this  old  censor  would  have  said  to  many  of  the 
so-called  respectable  publications  of  to-day  is  not  a  matter  of 
doubtful  conjecture.  It  was  under  Gookin's  roof,  and  perhaps 
on  this  very  spot,  that  Generals  Goffe  and  Whalley  were  shel- 
tered until  the  news  of  the  Restoration  and  Act  of  Indemnity 
caused  them  to  seek  another  asylum. 


A  DAY  AT   HARVARD.  201 

The  large,  square  wooden  house  at  the  corner  of  Harvard  and 
Quincy  Streets,  and  which  stands  upon  the  extreme  limit  of 
the  College  grounds  in  this  direction,  was  the  first  observatory 
at  Harvard.  It  is  at  present  the  residence  of  Eev.  Dr.  Pea- 
body,  chaplain  of  the  College.  AYilliam  Cranch  Bond,  subse- 
quently professor  of  astronomy,  was  a  skilful  optician,  who 
had,  from  innate  love  of  the  science  of  the  heavens,  established 
a  small  observatory  of  his  own  in  Dorchester,  where  he  pur- 
sued his  investigations.  He  was  invited  to  Harvard,  and,  with 
the  aid  of  such  instruments  as  could  be  obtained,  founded  in 
this  house  what  has  since  grown  to  be  a  credit  to  the  Univer- 
sity and  to  America.  He  had  the  assistance  of  some  of  the 
professors,  and  of  President  Hill  and  others.  Triangular  points 
were  established  in  connection  with  this  position  at  Milton  Hill 
and  at  Bunker  Hill.  It  was  the  intention  to  have  erected  an 
observatory  on  Milton  Hill,  but  difficulties  of  a  financial  char- 
acter interposed,  and  President  Quincy  purchased  Craigie  HiU, 
the  present  excellent  location. 

We  are  now  trenching  upon  classic  ground.  We  have  passed 
the  sites  of  the  old  parsonage  of  the  first  parish,  built  in  1670, 
and  in  which  aU  the  ministers,  from  Mr.  Mitchell  to  Dr. 
Holmes,  resided,  taken  down  in  1843;  the  traditional  Fellows' 
Orchard,  on  a  corner  of  which  now  stands  Gore  Hall;  the 
homes  of  Stephen  Sewall,  first  Hancock  Professor,  and  of  the 
Professors  Wiggles  worth,  long  since  demolished  or  removed,  to 
find  all  these  former  landmarks  included  within  the  College 
gTounds. 

If  the  reader  obeys  our  instincts  he  will  not  fail  to  turn 
aside  and  wend  his  ^vay  to  the  Library,  erected  in  1839-42, 
througli  the  munificence  of  Governor  Gore.  Within  the  hall 
are  the  busts  of  many  of 

•'  Those  dead  but  sceptred  sovereigns,  wlio  still  rule 
Our  spirits  from  their  urns." 

The  cabinets  of  precious  manuscripts,  some  of  them  going 
before  the  art  of  printing,  and  almost  putting  it  to  blush  with 
their  beautifully  illuminated  pages  ;  the  alcoves,  inscribed  with 
9* 


202 


HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 


the  benefactors'  names,  and  garnered  with  the  thoughts  and 
deeds  of  centuries,  —  each  a  storehouse  of  many  busy  brains, 
and  each  contributing  to  the  aggregate  of  human  knowledge  ;  — 
all  these  seemed  like  so  many  ladened  hives  of  human  patience, 
industry,  and,  perchance,  of  ill-requited  toil. 


y^^xi'i  ''fur  yWy^^^'^      \-\^   . ., ^ 


GORE   HALL,    1873. 

Here  is  your  dainty  fellow  in  rich  binding,  glittering  in  gold 
title,  and  swelling  with  importance,  —  a  parvenu  among  books. 
You  see  it  is  but  little  consulted,  —  the  verdict  of  condemna- 
tion. Here  is  a  Body  of  Divinit}^,  once  belonging  to  Samuel 
Parris,  first  minister  of  Danvers,  in  whose  family  witchcraft 
had  its  beginning  in  1692,  His  name  is  on  the  fly-leaf,  the 
ink  scarcely  faded,  while  his  bones  have  long  since  mouldered. 
Truly,  we  apprehend  such  bulky  bodies  must  have  sadly  lacked 
soul !  Many  of  Hollis's  books  are  on  the  shelves,  beautifully 
bound,  and  stamped  with  the  owner's  opinions  of  their  merits 
by  placing  the  owl,  his  family  emblem,  upside  down  when  he 
wished  to  express  his  disapproval. 

Somehow  we   cannot   take  the  book  of  an   author,   known 


A   DAY    AT   HARVARD.  203 

or  unknown,  from  its  accustomed  place  without  becoming  a.s 
deeply  contemplative  as  was  ever  Hamlet  over  the  skull  of 
Yorick,  or  without  thinking  that  each  sentence  may  have  been 
distilled  from  an  overworked,  thought-compressed  brain.  But 
if  one  laborer  faints  and  falls  out  of  the  ranks,  twenty  arise  to 
take  his  place,  and  still  the  delvers  in  the  mine  follow  the 
alluring  vein,  and  still  the  warfare  against  ignorance  goes  on. 

The  library  was  originally  deposited  in  Old  Harvard,  which 
was  destroyed  by  fire  on  the  24th  January,  1764,  and  with  it 
the  College  hbrary,  consisting  of  about  five  thousand  volumes 
of  printed  books  and  many  invaluable  manuscripts.  The 
philosophical  apparatus  was  also  lost.  This  was  a  severe  and 
irreparable  blow  to  the  CoDege,  for  the  books  given  by  John 
Harvard,  the  founder.  Sir  Kenelm  Digby,  Sir  John  Maynard, 
Dr.  Lightfoot,  Dr.  Gale,  Bishop  Berkely,  and  the  first  Thomas 
Hollis,  together  with  the  Greek  and  Hebrew  types  belonging 
to  the  College,  perished  in  the  flames.  Only  a  single  volume 
of  the  donation  of  Harvard  remains  from  the  fire.  Its  title  is 
"  Douname's  Christian  Warfare." 

A  picture  of  the  hbrary  as  it  existed  before  this  accident  is 
given  by  a  visitor  to  the  College  in  1 750  :  — 

"  The  library  is  very  large  and  well  stored  with  books  but  much 
abused  hy  frequent  use.  The  repository  of  curiosities  which  was  not 
over  well  stock'd.  Saw  2  Human  Skellitons  a  peice  Neigro's  hide 
tan'd  &c.  Homes  and  bones  of  land  and  sea  annuals,  fishes,  skins 
of  different  animals  stuff'd  &c.  The  skull  of  a  Famous  Indian 
Warrior,  where  was  also  the  moddell  of  the  Boston  Man  of  Warr  of 
40  Gurms  compleatly  rig'd  &c." 

We  can  only  indulge  in  vain  regrets  that  so  many  valuable 
collections  relative  to  Xew  England  history  have  becm  swept 
away.  The  fire  which  destroyed  Boston  Town  House  in 
1747;  the  mobs  M-hich  pillaged  the  house  of  Governor  Hutchin- 
son, and  also  the  Admiralty  archives  ;  the  mutilation  of  the 
invaluable  Prince  library  stored  in  the  tower  of  the  Old 
South,  of  the  destruction  of  whicli  Dr.  Belknap  related  that  lie 
was  a  witness,  and  which  was  used  from  day  to  ilay  to  kiiwJle 


204       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

the  fires  of  the  vandal  soldiery ;  the  plunder  of  the  Court  of 
Common  Pleas  by  the  same  lawless  soldiery,  —  all  have  added 
to  the  havoc  among  our  early  chronicles,  which  the  conflagra- 
tion at  Harvard  assisted  to  make  a  lamentably  conspicuous 
funeral-pyre  to  learning. 

After  the  fire  the  library  was  renewed  by  contributions, 
among  the  most  valuable  of  which  was  the  gift  of  a  consider- 
able part  of  Governor  Bernard's  private  library.  John  Han- 
cock was  the  donor,  in  1772,  of  a  large  number  of  books,  and 
also  of  a  carpet  for  the  floor  and  paper  for  the  walls.  The 
library  and  apparatus  were  packed  up  on  the  day  before  the 
battle  of  Bunker  Hill,  under  the  care  of  Samuel  Phillips, 
assisted  by  Thompson,  afterwards  Count  Eumford,  and  re- 
moved, first  to  Andover,  and  a  part  subsequently  to  Concord, 
to  which  place  the  government  and  many  of  the  students  had 
retired.  Many  of  the  books,  however,  were  probably  scattered 
in  private  hands,  as  we  find  President  Langdon  advertising  for 
the  return  of  the  apparatus  and  library  to  Mr.  Winthrop,  the 
librarian,  early  in  1778. 

Here  are  works  on  which  the  writers  have  expended  a 
lifetime  of  patient  research,  and  which  are  highly  prized  by 
scholars  ;  but  their  laborious  composition  has  failed  to  meet 
such  reward  as  would  keep  even  the  body  and  soul  of  an  author 
together.  And  here  are  yet  others  that  have  struck  the  fickle 
chord  of  transient  popular  favor,  requiting  their  makers  with 
golden  showers,  and  perhaps  advancement  to  high  places  of 
honor.  In  our  own  day  it  is  literary  buffoonery  that  pays  the 
best.  Once  master  the  secret  how  *'  to  set  the  table  in  a  roar," 
be  it  never  so  wisely,  and  we  warrant  you  success.  Perhaps  it 
is  because,  as  a  people,  we  laugh  too  little  that  we  are  wilHng 
to  pay  so  well  for  a  little  of  the  scanty  wit  and  a  good  deal  of 
the  chalk  and  sawdust  of  the  circus. 

Among  other  treasures  which  the  library  contains  is  a  copy 
of  EHot's  Indian  Bible,  the  first  Bible  printed  on  the  continent 
of  America,  perhaps  in  the  Indian  College,  certainly  on  Samuel 
Green's  Cambridge  press,  though  where  this  press  was  set  up 
diligent  inquiry  has  failed  to  enlighten  us.     In  1720,  as  we 


A    DAY   AT   HARVARD.  205 

gather  from  an  English  authority,  the  press  was  kept  either  in 
Harvard  or  Stoughton,  the  only  two  buildings  then  existing. 

Last,  but  not  least,  we  have  chanced  on  Father  Rale's  Dic- 
tionary of  the  Abenaquis,  captured,  with  the  priest's  strong- 
box, at  Norridgewock,  in  1721.  Sebastian  Rale  exercised 
great  influence  over  the  eastern  Indians,  among  whom  he  re- 
sided after  his  coming  to  Canada  in  1689.  This  influence, 
which  was  exerted  on  behalf  of  the  French,  by  exciting  the 
Indians  to  commit  depredations  upon  the  frontier  settlements 
of  the  English,  caused  an  attempt  to  be  made  to  seize  Rale  at 
his  house  at  N'orridgewock  by  a  party  led  by  Colonel  West- 
brook.  The  priest  escaped,  but  his  strong-box  was  taken,  and 
in  it  were  found  the  letters  of  M.  de  Vaudreuil,  Governor  of 
Canada,  which  exhibited  Rale  in  the  light  of  a  political  agent. 

This  attempt  was  retaliated  by  the  Indians,  and  Lovewell's 
War  ensued.  In  1724  ^orridgewock  was  surprised  and  Rale 
killed,  refusing,  it  is  alleged,  the  quarter  ofl'ered  him.  Rale  was 
slain  near  a  cross  which  he  had  erected  near  the  middle  of  the 
village,  and  with  him  some  Indians  who  endeavored  to  defend 
him.  The  father  went  boldly  forth  to  meet  his  enemies,  and 
died,  like  a  martyr,  at  the  foot  of  the  cross.  He  was  scalped, 
his  chapel  destroyed,  and  the  plate  and  furniture  of  the  altar, 
with  the  devotional  flag,  brought  away  as  trophies.  The  strong- 
box passed  into  the  possession  of  the  family  of  Colonel  West- 
brook,  the  commander  of  the  Eastern  forces.  The  story  is 
harrowing,  but  true. 

The  guardian  of  this  treasury  of  thought,  John  Langdon 
Sibley,  has  presided  over  it  since  1856,  with  previous  service 
as  assistant  for  many  years  after  his  graduation  in  1825.  Him- 
self a  scholar,  and  an  author  whose  energies  have  been  chiefly 
exerted  in  behalf  of  his  Alma  Mater,  his  long  experience  has 
made  of  him  a  living  encyclopedia,  with  brain  arranged  in 
pigeon-holes  and  alcoves,  and  where  the  information  accumu- 
lated for  so  many  studious  years  is  always  at  command,  —  not 
pressed  and  laid  away  to  moulder  in  its  living  receptacle. 

The  idea  of  a  secure  depository  for  the  College  library  origi- 
nated in  an  attempt,  in  April,  1829,  to  blow  up  Harvard  Hall. 


206      HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

Leaving  the  castellated  granite  Library,  the  first  attempt  at 
architectural  display  these  precincts  knew,  we  pass  on  to  the 
ancient  dwelling-place  of  the  governors  of  the  College,  known 
us  the  President's  House. 

It  is  a  venerable  gambrel-roofed  structure,  of  no  mean  con- 
sideration in  its  day,  and  certainly  an  object  remarkable  enough 
for  its  antiquated  appearance,  standing,  as  it  does,  solitary  and 
^lone,  of  all  its  companions  that  t)nce  stretched  along  the  lane. 
A  tall  elm  at  its  back,  another  at  its  front,  droop  over  it  lov- 
ingly and  tenderly.  These  are  all  that  remain  of  a  number 
planted  by  President  Willard,  the  exigencies  of  improvement 
having  cut  off  a  portion  of  the  grounds  in  front,  now  turned 
into  the  street. 

The  house  is  of  two  stories,  with  a  chimney  at  either  end, 
and  a  straggling  collection  of  buildings  at  its  back,  which  the 
necessities  of  various  occupants  have  called  into  being.  It  was 
literally  the  habitation  of  the  presidents  of  the  College  for  a 
hundred  and  twenty  years,  beginning  with  Benjamin  Wads- 
worth,  minister  of  the  First  Church  in  Boston,  and  son  of  the 
old  Indian  fighter,  for  whom  it  was  erected.  The  entry  from 
the  President's  MS.  book,  in  the  College  Library,  which  follows, 
fixes  the  date  with  precision  :  — 

"  The  President's  House  to  dwell  in  was  raised  May  24, 1726.  No 
life  was  lost  nor  person  hurt  in  raising  it  ;  thanks  be  to  God  for  his 
preserving  goodness.  In  y  evening  those  who  raised  y*  House,  had 
a  supper  in  y*  Hall  ;  after  wch  we  sang  y*  first  stave  or  staff  in 
y  127  Psalm. 

'*  27  Oct.  1726.  This  night  some  of  our  family  lodged  at  y*  New 
House  built  for  y*  President;  Nov.  4  at  night  was  y*  first  time  y*  my 
wife  and  I  lodg'd  there.     The  house  was  not  half  finished  within." 

Miss  Eliza  Susan  Quincy,  daughter  of  President  Quincy,  who 
resided  in  this  house  for  sixteen  years,  has  lately  given  the 
annexed  description  of  the  old  mansion.*     She  says  :  — 

"  My  sketch  represents  the  house  as  Washington  saw  it,  except 
that  there  were  only  two  windows  on  each  side  the  porch  in  the 

*  Charles  Deane,  in  Mass.  Hist.  Society's  Proceedings. 


A  DAY  AT  HARVARD. 


207 


lowest  story.  The  enlargement  of  the  dining  and  drawing  rooms, 
which  added  a  third,  was  subsequently  made  under  the  direction  of 
Treasurer  Storer,  as  his  daughter  informed  me.  The  room  in  the 
rear  of  the  drawing-room,  on  the  right  hand  as  you  enter,  was  the 
President's  study,  until  the  presidency  of  Webber,  when  the  end  of 
the  house  was  added,  with  a  kitchen  and  chamber  and  dressing-room, 
very  commodiously  arranged,  I  was  told,  under  the  direction  o[ 
Mrs.  Webber.  The  brick  building  was  built  at  the  same  time  fur 
the  President's  study  and  Freshman's  room  beneath  it,  and  for  the 
preservation  of  the  college  manuscripts.  I  went  over  the  house  ^ith 
my  father  and  mother  and  President  Kirkland,  soon  after  his  acces- 
sion. As  there  were  no  regular  records  kept  during  his  presidency 
of  eighteen  years,  he  did  not  add  much  to  the  manuscripts.  We 
then  little  imagined  that  we  should  be  the  next  occupants  of  the 
mansion,  should  repair  and  arrange  the  house  under  Mrs.  Quincy's 
direction,  and  reside  in  it  sixteen  very  happy  years.  I  regret  its 
present  dilapidated  state,  and  rejoice,  in  view  of  '  the  new  departure,' 
as  it  is  termed,  that  I  sketched  the  antiquities  and  old  mansions  of 
Old  Cambridge." 


The  brick  building  alluded  to,  and  which  now  joins  the  ex- 
treme rear  additions,  formerly  stood  on  the  left-hand  side  of  the 
mansion  as  the  spectator  faces  it,  and  communicated  with  it. 
This  part  was  built  under  the  supervision  of  President  Webber, 
and  was,  in  1871,  removed  to  its  present  situation.  It  is  now 
the  office  of  the  College  Steward. 

Probably  no  private  mansion  in  America  has  seen  so  many 
illustrious  personages  under  its  roof-tree  as 
the  President's  House.  Besides  its  occu- 
pancy by  W^adsworth,  Holyoke,  Locke, 
Langdon,  AVillard,  W^ebber,  Kirkland, 
Quincy,  and  Everett,  the  royal  governors 
have  assembled  there  on  successive  anniver- 
saries, and  no  distinguished  traveller  passed 
its  door  without  paying  his  respects  to  the 
administration  for  the  time  being.  No 
d(jubt  the  eccentric  Dr.  Witherspoon  broke  willard. 

bread  at  the  table  of  Holyoke  when  he  visited  Boston  in  the 
memorable  year  1768. 


208       HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

The  office  of  president,  though  for  a  long  time,  either  through 
policy  or  parsimony,  a  dependent  one,  was  always  an  eminent 
mark  of  distinction,  and  its  possessor  was  regarded  —  outside 
the  College  walls  at  least,  if  not  always  within  —  with  venera- 
tion and  respect.  The  earlier  incumbents  were  men  who  had 
acquired  great  influence  for  their  piety  and  learning  as  teachers 
of  the  people,  whose  spiritual  and  temporal 
wants  were  in  those  primitive  days  equally 
under  guardianship. 

Chauncy,  who  is  styled  in  the  "  Magnalia  " 
the  Cadmus  Americana,  and  who  rose  at  four 
in  the  morning,  summer  and  winter;  In- 
crease Mather,  whose  dynasty  embraced  a 
period  of  great  importance  in  the  political 
history  of  the  Colony  ;  Wadsworth,  in 
whose  time  the  Church  of  England  made  its 
CHAUNCY.  ineffectual  effort  to  obtain  an  entrance  into 

the  government ;  Holyoke,  whose  term  is  memorable  as  the 
longest  of  the  series ;  and  Langdon,  who  left  his  office  at  the 
dictation  of  a  cabal  of  students,  —  all  are  honored  names,  and 
part  of  the  history  of  their  times. 

Upon  the  coming  of  General  Washington  to  Cambridge  the 
Provincial  Congress  assigned  the  President's  House  for  his  use, 
not  because  it  was  the  best  by  many  the  place  could  afford,  but 
probably  because  it  was  the  only  one  then  unoccupied  by  the 
provincial  forces  or  their  military  adjuncts.  The  house  not 
being  in  readiness  when  the  General  arrived,  on  the  2d  of  July, 
1775,  he  availed  himself,  temporarily,  of  another  situation,  and 
within  a  week  indicated  his  preference  for  the  Vassall  House, 
which  he  had  not  passed  down  the  old  Watertown  road  with- 
out observing.  There  is  no  conclusive  evidence  that  the  Gen- 
eral ever  occupied  the  President's  House,  and  the  absence  of 
any  tradition  involves  it  in  doubt. 

Washington  made  a  passing  visit  to  Cambridge  in  1789,  and 
was  welcomed  on  behalf  of  the  governors  of  the  College  by 
President  Willard.  He  was  then  accompanied  by  Tobias  Lear, 
who  had  owed  his  confidential  position  as  Washington's  secre- 
tary  to  the  good  offices  of  Willard. 


A   DAY   AT    HARVARD.  209 

With  President  Willard  departed  the  day  of  big  wigs  at  the 
President's  House.  He  always  a2:)peared  abroad  in  the  full-bot- 
tomed white  periwig  sanctioned  by  the  custom  of  the  times  ; 
this  was  exchanged  in  the  study  for  a  velvet  cap,  such  as 
adorn  the  heads  of  some  of  the  portraits  in  Old  Massachusetts 
HaU. 

It  is  related  that  when  Congress  was  sitting  in  New  York, 
during  Washington's  term,  President  Willard  visited  that  place. 
It  chanced  that  he  wore  his  full-bottomed  wig,  which  attracted 
so  great  a  crowd  when  he  walked  about  as  to  occasion  on  his 
part  apprehensions  of  ill  usage  from  the  mob.  With  what  satis- 
faction he  must  have  shaken  off  the  dust  of  that  barbarous  city, 
where  the  sight  of  his  periwig  aroused  a  curiosity  akin  to  that 
exhibited  by  the  Goths  when  they  beheld  the  long  wdiite  beards 
of  the  Roman  senators. 

In  Willard's  time  a  club  of  gentlemen  were  accustomed  to 
assemble  at  his  house  on  certain  evenings,  of  which,  besides  the 
President  and  resident  professors,  Judge  Dana,  Governor  Gerry, 
Mr.  Craigie,  Mr.  Gannett,  and  others,  were  members.  Bachelors 
were  excluded,  which  caused  Judge  Winthrop,  the  former  libra- 
rian and  one  of  the  tabooed,  to  say  they  met  to  talk  over  their 
grievances. 

President  Kirkland,  an  elegant  scholar  and  most  fascinating 
companion,  was  noted  for  his  pithy  sayings  as  well  as  for  his  wit. 
On  one  occasion  an  ambitious  young  fellow,  who  had  a  pretty 
good  opinion  of  himself,  having  asked  the  Doctor  at  what  age 
a  man  would  be  justified  in  becoming  an  author,  replied,  "Wait 
until  you  are  forty  ;  after  that  you  will  never  print  anything." 
To  a  student  who  observed  in  his  presence  that  dress  of  itself 
was  of  little  consequence,  he  made  this  shrewd  remark  :  "  There 
are  many  things  which  there  is  no  particular  merit  in  doing, 
but  which  there  is  positive  demerit  in  leaving  undone." 

The  rare  abilities  of  Dr.  Kirkland  make  it  a  Tiever-failing  re- 
gret that  he  was  by  nature  indolent,  and  indisposed  to  call  into 
action  the  full  powers  of  his  mind,  or  to  bring  forward  his 
reserves  of  information  except  in  brilliant  conversation.  He 
talked  apparently  without  effort,  and  could  unite  the  merest 


210        HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

minutes  of  a  discourse  with  little  or  no  preparation  and  with 
marvellous  address. 

President  Kirkland  is  described  as  of  middling  stature, 
portly,  with  fair  complexion,  a  round  and  comely  face,  with 
blue  eyes,  a  small  mouth,  regular  and  beautiful  teeth,  and  a 
countenance  noble,  frank,  and  intelligent. 

Josiah  Quincy,  after  an  active  political  life,  became  President 
in  1849.  During  his  occupancy  of  the  chair  Gore  Hall  was 
built,  and  the  security  of  the  library,  which  had  given  him 
much  solicitude,  was  assured  against  ordinary  contingencies. 
The  sixteen  years  of  Mr.  Quincy's  administration  were  a  period 
of  great  usefulness  and  prosperity  to  the  College.  In  1840  the 
President  published  his  History  of  Harvard  University,  —  a 
work  of  much  value,  in  which  he  was  assisted  by  his  daughter, 
Eliza,  a  lady  whose  culture  and  tastes  eminently  qualified  her 
for  the  work. 

Mr.  Everett's  excessive  sensitiveness  contributed  to  make  his 
contact  with  so  many  young  and  turbulent  spirits  at  times  dis- 
quieting. His  elegant,  classic  diction  and  superb  manner  have 
gained  for  him  an  enviable  name  as  an  orator.  He  would  never, 
if  possible,  speak  extemporaneously,  but  carefully  prepared  and 
committed  his  addresses.  His  mind  was  quick  to  grasp  any 
circumstance  and  turn  it  to  account ;  the  simile  of  a  drop  of 
water,  used  by  him  with  much  force,  occurred  to  him,  it  is  said, 
through  the  dropi)ing  from  a  leak  over  his  head  while  perform- 
ing his  morning  ablutions.  Similarly,  while  once  on  his  way 
to  deliver  an  address  at  Williams  College,  he  happened  to  pass 
the  night  at  Stockbridge,  where  a  gentleman  exhibited  to  him 
the  watch  of  Baron  Dieskau.  The  next  day  this  little  relic 
furnished  the  theme  for  a  beautiful  passage,  into  which  the  de- 
feat of  Dieskau  and  the  death  of  Colonel  Williams,  on  the  same 
field,  were  efiectively  interwoven. 

Rev.  Sydney  Smith,  with  whom  Mr.  Everett  passed  some 
time  in  Somersetshire,  thus  spoke  of  him  :  — 

"  He  made  upon  us  the  same  impression  he  appears  to  make  uni- 
versally in  this  country.  We  thought  him  (a  character  which  tlie 
English  always  receive  with  affectionate  regard)  an  amiable  Ameri- 


A   DAY   AT  HARVARD.  211 

can,  republican  without  rudeness,  and  accomplished  without  ostenta- 
tion. '  If  I  had  known  that  gentleman  five  years  ago  (said  one  of 
my  guests),  I  should  have  been  deep  in  the  American  funds  ;  and,  as 
it  is,  I  think  at  times  that  I  see  nineteen  or  twenty  shillings  in  the 
pound  in  his  face.'  " 

Increase  Mather  was  the  first  person  to  receive  the  degree  of 
Doctor  of  Divinity  from  Harvard.  When  he  became  President 
he  refused  to  accede  to  the  requirement  that  the  President 
should  reside  at  Cambridge,  and  finally  resigned  rather  than 
comply  with  it.  Vice-President  Willard  is  the  only  person 
who  has  administered  the  affairs  of  the  College  under  that 
title,  which  was  assumed  to  evade  the  rule  of  residence,  and 
to  enable  him  to  continue  his  functions  as  pastor  of  the  Old 
South,  Boston. 

It  was  Increase  Mather,  then  (1700)  President,  who  ordered 
Eobert  Calef's  "wricked  book"  —  a  satire  on  witchcraft,  en- 
titled "  More  Wonders  of  the  Invisible  World,"  and  printed  in 
London  —  burnt  in  the  College  yard,  and  the  members  of  the 
reverend  Doctor's  church  (The  Old  Xorth)  published  a  defence 
of  their  pastors.  Increase  and  Cotton  Mather,  called  "  Truth 
ivill  come  offCo7iqueror"  This  publication  proved  even  a  greater 
satire  than  Calef's,  as  the  authors  were  erelong  but  too  glad  to 
disavow  all  sympathy  with  the  wretched  superstition. 

The  President's  chair,  an  ancient  rehc,  used  in  the  College, 
from  an  indefinite  time,  for  conferring  degrees,  is  preserved  in 
Gore  HaU.  Eeport  represents  it  to  have  been  brought  to  the 
College  during  the  presidency  of  Holyoke  as  the  gift  of  Rev. 
Ebenezer  Turell.  It  has  a  triangidar  seat,  and  belongs  to  the 
earliest  specimens  of  our  ancestors'  domestic  furniture. 

In  Dunster  Street  we  salute  the  name  of  the  first  President 
of  the  College,  whose  habitation,  it  is  conjectured,  stood  near. 
It  was  at  first  called  Water  Street,  and  in  it  were  situated  the 
first  church  erected  in  i*^ewtown,  which  stood  on  the  west  side, 
a  little  south  of  the  intersection  of  Mount  Auburn  Street,  upon 
land  formerly  owned  by  Thaddeus  M.  Harris,  and  also  the 
house  of  Thomas  Dudley,  the  deputy  of  Governor  Winthrop, 
whose  extravagance  in  ornamenting  his  habitation  with  a  wain- 


212       HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

scot  made  of  clapboards  the  latter  reproved.  At  the  foot  of 
Water  Street  was  the  old  ferry  by  which  communication  was 
had  with  the  opposite  shore. 

The  old  meeting-house  stood  till  about  1650,  when  the  town 
took  order  for  building  a  new  church  on  the  Watch  House  Hill, 
of  which  presently.  A  vote  of  the  town  in  the  year  mentioned 
directs  the  repair  of  the  old  house  "  with  a  4  square  roofe  and 
covered  with  shingle."  The  new  house  was  to  be  forty  foot 
square,  covered  in  the  same  manner  as  was  directed  for  the  old, 
the  repair  of  which  was  discontinued,  and  the  land  belonging 
to  it  sold  in  1651. 

Dudley,  the  tough  old  soldier  of  Henri  Quatre,  with  whom 
he  had  fought  at  the  siege  of  Amiens  in  1597,  with  a  captain's 
commission  from  Queen  Bess,  finally  settled  in  Eoxbury,  and 
left  a  name  that  has  been  honored  in  his  descendants.  His 
house  stood  on  the  west  side  of  Water  Street,  near  its  southern 
termination  at  Marsh  Lane,  (xovernor  Belcher  says  :  "  It  was 
wrote  of  him, 

'  Here  lies  Thomas  Dudley  that  trusty  old  stud, 
A  bargain  's  a  bargain  and  must  be  made  good.'  " 

A  brief  glance  at  the  topography  of  our  surroundings  will 
enable  the  reader  to  understand  in  what  way  the  Englishmen 
laid  out  what  they  intended  for  their  capital  town.  They  first 
reserved  a  square  for  a  market-place,  after  the  manner  of  the 
old  English  towns.  This  is  the  present  Market  Square,  upon 
which  the  College  grounds  abut,  and  in  its  midst  was  perhaps 
placed  a  central  milliarium,  which  marked  the  home  points  of 
the  converging  roads.  The  ])lain,  as  level  as  a  calm  sea,  ad- 
mitted the  laying  out  of  the  town  in  squares,  the  streets  cross- 
ing each  other  at  right  angles.  Between  the  market-place  and 
the  river  were  erected  the  principal  houses  of  the  settlement, 
and  some  of  the  oldest  now  standing  in  Cambridge  will  be 
found  in  this  locality. 

We  have  noticed  the  ferry.  About  1660  this  was  super- 
seded by  "the  great  bridge,"  rebuilt  in  1690,  and  standing  at 
the  Revolution  in  its  present  situation  at  the  foot  of  Brighton 


A   DAY    AT    HARVARD.  213 

Street.  Over  this  bridge  came  Earl  Percy  with  his  reinforce- 
ment on  that  eventful  morning  in  April  which  dissolved  the 
British  empire  in  America.  The  people,  having  notice  of  his 
approach,  removed  the  "  leaves  "  or  flooring  of  the  bridge,  but, 
as  they  were  not  conveyed  to  any  distance,  they  were  soon 
found  and  replaced  by  the  Earl's  troops.  A  draw  was  made  in 
the  bridge  at  Washington's  request  in  1775. 

The  street  leading  from  the  market-place  to  the  bridge  was 
the  principal  in  the  town  for  a  long  period,  it  being  in  the 
direct  route  of  travel  from  Boston  via  Eoxbury  and  Little  Cam- 
bridge (Brighton)  to  what  is  now  Lexington,  and  from  the 
capital  again  by  Charlestown  Ferry  to  the  Colleges,  and  thence 
by  the  bridge  to  Brookline  and  the  southward. 

It  was  intended  to  make  IS^ewtown  a  fortified  place,  and  a 
levy  was  made  on  the  several  towns  for  this  purpose.  Rev. 
Abiel  Holmes,  writing  in  1800,  says  :  — 

"  This  fortification  was  actually  made,  and  the  fosse  which  was 
then  dug  around  the  town  is,  in  some  places,  visible  to  this  day.  It 
commenced  at  Brick  Wharf  (originally  cdled  Windmill  Hill)  and 
ran  along  the  northern  side  of  the  present  Common  in  Cambridge, 
and  through  what  was  then  a  thicket,  but  now  constitutes  a  part  of 
the  cultivated  grounds  of  Mr.  Nathaniel  Jarvis,  beyond  which  it 
cannot  be  distinctly  traced.     It  enclosed  above  one  thousand  acres." 

The  road  to  Watertown,  now  Brattle  Street,  and  formerly 
the  great  highway  to  the  south  and  west,  left  the  market-place, 
as  now,  by  the  rear  of  the  English  Church,  but  communicated 
also  more  directly  with  Charlestown  road  by  the  north  side  of 
the  Common.  It  was  by  this  road  that  Washington  arrived 
in  Cambridge  and  the  army  marched  to  New  York.  By  it, 
also,  Burgoyne's  troops  reached  their  designated  camps.  The 
reader  will  go  over  it  with  us  hereafter.  All  these  particulars 
are  deemed  essential  to  a  comprehension  of  the  military  oper- 
ations of  the  siege  of  Boston  when  Cambridge  was  an  intrenched 
(jamp. 

Not  far  from  the  Square,  and  on  the  west  side  of  Brighton 
Street,  is  the  site  of  Ebenezer  Bradish's  tavern,  of  repute  in 
Revolutionary  times.      Its  situation  near  the  bridge  was  com- 


214       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

patible  with  the  convenience  of  travellers  ;  nor  was  it  too  re- 
mote from  the  College  halls  for  the  requirements  of  the  students 
when  Latin  classics  became  too  dry,  and  Euclid  too  dull  for 
human  endurance.  Many,  we  will  venture  to  say,  were  the 
plump,  big-bellied  Dutch  bottles  smuggled  from  mine  host's 
into  Old  Harvard,  Massachusetts,  or  Stoughton.  Bradish  kept 
a  livery  too,  which  was  no  doubt  well  patronized  by  the  col- 
legians, though  here  he  encountered  some  disgrace  by  letting 
his  horses  to  David  Phips  to  carry  off  the  province  cannon  at 
Gage's  behest.  Bradish  seems,  however,  to  have  been  well 
affected  to  the  patriot  cause.  His  inn  was  long  the  only  one 
in  the  town,  and  had  the  honor  of  entertaining  Generals  Bur- 
goyne.  Philips,  and  the  principal  British  officers  on  their  first 
arrival  in  Cambridge.  This  tavern,  also  later  known  as  Porter's, 
was  for  a  time  the  annual  resort  of  the  Senior  Class  of  the  Col- 
lege on  Class  Day,  for  a  dinner  and  final  leave-taking  of  all 
academical  exercises.  Bradish's  was  the  rendezvous  of  Rufus 
Putnam's  regiment  in  1777. 

The  first  publican  in  Old  Cambridge  was  Andrew  Belcher, 
an  ancestor  of  the  governor  of  that  name,  who  was  licensed  in 
1652  "  to  sell  beare  and  bread,  for  entertainment  of  strangers 
and  the  good  of  the  towne."  It  is  at  least  a  coincidence  that  a 
Belcher  still  dispenses  rather  more  dainty  viands  on  Harvard 
Square. 

It  is  a  relief  to  find  that  in  the  year  1 750  there  were  some 
convivial  and  even  thirsty  souls  about,  as  we  learn  from  the 
journal  of  a  rollicking  sea-captain,  who  was  having  his  ship 
repaired  at  Boston  while  he  indulged  in  a  run  on  shore  :  — 

"  Being  now  ready  to  Sale  I  determined  to  pay  my  way  in  time, 
which  I  accordingly  did  at  M"  Graces  at  the  Request  of  M'  Heyleg- 
her  and  the  Other  Gentlemen  Gave  them  a  Good  Supper  with  Wine 
and  Arack  Punch  Galore,  where  Exceeding  Merry  Drinking  Toasts 
Singing  Roaring  &c.  untill  Morning  when  Could  Scarce  see  One 
another  being  Blinded  by  the  Wine  Arack  &c.  we  where  in  all  ab*  20 
in  comp'." 

The  tavern  bills  of  the  General  Court  in  1768-69  would 
astonish  the  ascetics  of  Beacon  Hill.     We  remark  a  great  dis- 


A   DAY    AT    HARVARD.  215 

parity  between  the  quantity  of  fluids  and  edibles.  In  a  docu- 
ment now  before  us  eighty  dinners  are  flanked  with  one  hun- 
dred and  thirty-six  bowls  of  punch,  twenty-one  bottles  of  sherry, 
and  brandy  at  discretion.  Truly  !  we  are  tempted  to  exclaim 
with  Prince  Hal  on  reading  the  bill  of  Falstaft''s  supper,  — 

"  0  monstrous  !  but  one  hall-pennyworth  of  bread  to  this  intolerable  deal 
of  sack," 

What,  then,  would  Prince  Hal  have  said  to  a  bill  of  your 
modern  alderman  1 

Returning  into  the  Square,  we  continue  our  peregrinations 
around  the  College  enclosure.  As  you  turn  towards  the  Com- 
mon, in  approaching  from  Harvard  Street,  you  pass  over  the 
spot  whereon  the  second  edifice  of  the  first  church  was  erected. 
A  little  elevation  which  formerly  existed  here  is  supposed  to 
have  been  the  Watch-house  Hill,  before  mentioned,  and  later 
called  Meeting-house  Hill.  In  1706  the  third  church  was 
erected  on  this  ground,  and  in  1756  the  fourth  house  was^ 
raised,  somewhat  nearer  Dane  HaU.  This  church  was  taken 
down  in  1833,  when  the  site  became  the  property  of  the 
College. 

In  the  meeting-house  which  stood  here  the  First  Provincial 
Congress  held  their  session  in  1774,  after  their  adjournment 
from  Salem  and  Concord.  The  Congress  first  met  in  the  old 
Court  House  on  the  17th  of  October,  but  immediately  adjourned 
to  the  meeting-house,  of  which  Rev.  Nathaniel  Appleton  was 
then  pastor,  and  who  officiated  as  their  chaplain.  This  was  the 
period  of  the  Port  Act,  and  the  crisis  of  the  country.  The 
Congress  was  earnestly  engaged  in  measures  for  the  relief  of 
the  distressed  and  embargoed  town  of  Boston,  the  formation  of 
an  army,  a  civil  administration,  and  other  revolutionary  meas- 
ures. Here  was  made  the  organization  of  the  celebrated  minute- 
men,  the  appointment  of  Jedediah  Preble,  Artemas  Ward,  and 
Seth  Pomeroy  as  general  officers  ;  and  of  the  famous  Revolution- 
ary committee  of  nine,  of  which  Hancock,  Warren,  Church, 
Devens,  White,  Palmer,  Quincy,  Watson,  and  Orne  were  mem- 
bers.    This  body,  called  the  Committee  of  Safety,  wielded  the 


216      HISTOKIC    FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

executive  power,  and  in  the  recess  of  Congress  were  vested  with 
almost  dictatorial  authority.  The  members  of  the  Second  Con- 
tinental Congress  were  also  chosen  at  this  time. 

Space  does  not  permit  us  to  linger  among  those  giants  who 
welded  the  Old  Thirteen  together  with  the  fire  of  their  elo- 
quence. One  incident  must  have  created  no  little  sensation  in 
an  assembly  of  which  probably  a  majority  were  slaveholders. 
A  letter  was  brought  into  the  Congress  directed  to  Eev.  Dr. 
Appleton,  which  was  read.  It  represented  the  propriety  while 
Congress  was  engaged  in  efforts  to  free  themselves  and  the 
people  from  slavery,  that  it  should  also  take  into  consideration 
the  state  and  circumstances  of  the  negro  slaves  in  the  province. 
After  some  debate  the  question  "  was  allowed  to  subside." 

•'  A  I  freedome  is  a  nobill  thing  I 

Freedome  iiiayse  man  to  liaiff  liking! 
Freedome  all  solace  to  man  giffis; 
He  levys  at  ese'  that  I'rely  levys ! 
A  noble  hart  may  haitf  nane  ese, 
Na  ellys  nocht  that  may  him  plese, 
Gyff  fredome  failythe  ;  for  fre  liking 
Ls  yearnyt  our  all  other  thing 
Na  he,  that  ay  hase  levyt  fre. 
May  nocht  knaw  well  the  projjryte. 
The  angyi-,  na  the  wretchyt  dome, 
That  is  cowplyt  to  foul  thryldome." 

In  the  olden  time  people  were  summoned  to  church  by  beat 
of  drum,  —  until  a  beU  was  procured,  a  harsh  and  discordant 
appeal  for  the  assembly  of  a  peaceful  congregation,  —  but  those 
were  the  days  of  the  church  mihtant.  On  the  contrary,  our 
grandsires,  whose  ears  were  not  attuned  to  the  sound,  could  as 
little  endure  the  roU  of  British  drums  near  their  sanctuaries  on 
ii  Sabbath  morn,  as  could  the  poet  the  clangor  of  the  bell  of 
Tron-Kirk  which  he  so  rudely  apostropliized  :  — 

"Oh!  were  I  provost  o'  the  town, 
I  swear  by  a'  the  powers  aboon, 
T  'd  bring  ye  wi'  a  reesle  down  ; 

Nor  should  you  think 
(So  sair  I  'd  crack  and  clour  your  crown) 

Again  to  clink." 


A   DAY   AT    HARVARD.  217 

The  old  Court  House,  which  has  been  named  in  connection 
with  the  Henley  trial,  stood  at  first  bodily  within  the  Square, 
but  was  later  removed  to  the  site  of  the  present  Lyceum 
building,  and  is  even  now  existing  in  its  rear,  where  it  is 
utilized  for  workshops.  It  was  built  in  1756,  and  continued  to 
be  used  by  the  courts  until  the  proprietors  of  Lechmere  Point 
obtained  their  removal  to  that  location  by  the  offer  of  a  large 
bonus.  The  old  wooden  jail  stood  at  the  southwest  corner  of 
the  Square,  and  was  but  little  used  for  the  detention  of  crimi- 
nals after  the  erection  of  the  stone  jail  at  Concord  in  1789. 
The  Court  House  witnessed  the  trials  of  many  notable  causes, 
and  furnished  the  law-students  of  the  University  with  a  real 
theatre,  of  which  they  were  in  the  habit  of  availing  them- 
selves. 

As  late  as  1665  declarations  and  summonses  were  published 
by  sound  of  trumpet.  The  crier  opened  the  court  in  the 
king's  name,  and  the  judges  and  barristers  in  scarlet  robes, 
gown,  and  mg,  inspired  the  spectator  with  a  wholesome  sense 
of  the  majesty  of  the  law.  The  usual  form  of  a  document  was 
"  To  aU  Xtian  people  Greeting." 

Under  the  first  charter,  or  patent  as  it  was  usually  called,  the 
Governor  and  Assistants  were  the  sole  depositaries  of  all  power, 
whether  legislative,  executive,  or  judicial.  When  the  patent 
was  silent  the  Scriptures  were  consulted  as  the  proper  guide. 
The  ministers  and  elders  were,  in  all  new  exigencies,  the  ex- 
pounders of  the  law,  which  was  frequently  made  for  the  occa- 
sion and  applied  without  hesitation.  The  cause  of  complaint 
was  briefly  stated,  and  there  were  no  pleadings.  Hutchinson 
says,  that  for  more  than  the  first  ten  years  the  parties  spoke 
for  themselves,  sometimes  assisted,  if  the  cause  was  weighty, 
by  a  patron,  or  man  of  superior  abilities,  but  without  fee  or 
reward.  The  jury  —  and  this  marks  the  simplicity  of  the 
times  —  were  allowed  by  law,  if  not  satisfied  with  the  opinion 
of  the  court,  "  to  consult  any  bystander^  Such  were  the 
humble  beginnings  of  our  courts  of  law. 

The  following  is  extracted  from  the  early  laws  of  Massaclm- 
setts  :  — 

10 


218       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

"  Everie  marryed  woeman  shall  be  free  from  bodilie  correction  or 
stripes  by  her  husband,  unlesse  it  be  in  his  owne  defence  upon  her 
assalt.  If  there  be  any  just  cause  of  correction  complaint  shall  be 
made  to  Authoritie  assembled  in  some  court,  from  which  onely  she 
shall  receive  it." 

The  common  law  of  England  authorized  the  infliction  of 
chastisement  on  a  wife  with  a  reasonable  instrument.  It  is 
related  that  Judge  Buller,  charging  a  jury  in  such  a  case,  said, 
"Without  undertaking  to  define  exactly  what  a  reasonable 
instrument  is,  I  hold,  gentlemen  of  the  jury,  that  a  stick  no 
bigger  than  my  thumb  comes  clearly  within  that  description." 
It  is  further  reported  that  a  committee  of  ladies  waited  on  him 
the  next  day,  to  beg  that  they  might  be  favored  with  the  exact 
dimensions  of  his  lordship's  thumb. 

Dane  Hall,  which  bears  the  name  of  that  eminent  jurist  and 
statesman  through  whose  bounty  it  arose,  was  erected  in  1832 
and  enlarged  in  1845.  The  south  foundation- wall  of  Dane 
is  the  same  as  the  north  wall  of  the  old  meeting-house,  so  that 
Law  and  Divinity  rest  here  upon  a  common  base. 

The  first  law-professorship  was  established  through  the  be- 
quest of  Isaac  Royall,  the  Medford  loyalist,  who  gave  by  his 
will  more  than  two  thousand  acres  of  land  in  the  towns  of 
Granby  and  Eoyalston  for  this  purpose.  In  1815  Hon.  Isaac 
Parker,  Chief  Justice  of  the  Supreme  Court,  was  appointed 
first  professor,  and  in  1817,  at  his  suggestion,  a  law  school  was 
established.  Judge  Parker's  lectures  were  delivered  in  what 
was  then  known  as  the  Philosophy  Chamber,  in  Harvard  HaU. 
Both  the  Law  and  Divinity  Schools  were  established  during 
Dr.  Kirkland's  presidency.  It  is  worthy  of  mention  that  the 
first  doctorate  of  laws  was  conferred  on  Washington  for  his 
expulsion  of  the  British  from  Boston. 

IS'athan  Dane,  LL.  D.,  a  native  of  Ipswich  and  graduate  of 
Harvard,  is  justly  remembered  as  the  framer,  while  in  Congress, 
of  the  celebrated  "  Ordinance  of  1787  "  for  the  government  of 
the  territory  northwest  of  the  Ohio,  by  which  slavery  was 
excluded  from  that  immense  region.  In  1829  the  Law  School 
was  reorganized  through  the  liberality  of  Mr.  Dane,  who  had 


A   DAY   AT    HArvVAKD.  219 

offered  a  competent  sum  for  a  professorship,  with  the  right  of 
nominating  the  first  iiicumhent.  Tlie  person  who  had  been 
selected  for  the  occupancy  of  the  chair  was  Joseph  Story, 
whose  fame  as  a  jurist  had  culminated  on  the  Supreme  Bench 
of  the  United  States. 

Judge  Story  remained  in  the  Dane  Professorship  until  his 
death  in  1845,  a  period  of  sixteen  years.  It  is  believed  that 
his  life  was  shortened  by  his  prodigious  intellectual  laboi's  and 
the  demands  made  upon  him  for  various  kinds  of  literary  work. 
As  a  writer  he  belonged  to  the  intense  school,  if  such  a  char- 
acterization be  admissible,  and  this  mental  tension  appeared 
in  the  quick  changes  of  liis  countenance  and  in  his  nervous 
movements  as  well  as  in  the  rapidity  of  his  pen.  A  great 
talker,  he  never  lacked  interested  auditors ;  for  his  was  a  mind 
of  colossal  stamp,  and  he  never  wanted  language  to  give  utter- 
ance to  his  thoughts. 

The  first  settlers  in  Massachusetts  Bay  did  not  recognize  the 
law  of  England  any  further  than  it  suited  their  interests.  The 
common  law  does  not  appear,  says  Sullivan,  to  have  been  re- 
garded under  the  old  patent,  nor  for  many  years  after  the 
Charter  of  1692.  In  1647  the  fh-st  importation  of  law  books 
was  made  ;  it  comprised,  — 

2  copies  of  Sir  Edward  Coke  on  Littleton, 

2       "      of  the  Book  of  Entries, 

2       "      of  Sir  Edward  Coke  on  Magna  Charta, 

2       "      of  the  New  Terms  of  the  Law, 

2       "      of  Dalton's  Justice  of  the  Peace, 

2       "      of  Sir  Edward  Coke's  Reports. 

This  was  four  years  after  the  division  of  the  Colony  of  Massa- 
chusetts Bay  into  four  shires.  Norfolk  included  that  part  of 
the  present  county  of  Essex  north  of  the  Merrimac,  and  also 
the  settled  part  of  New  Hampshire. 

There  were  attorneys  here  about  ten  years  after  the  settle- 
ment. Lechford,  who  came  over  in  1631,  and  returned  to 
England  in  1641,  where  he  published  a  pamphlet  called  "  Plain 
Dealing,"  says  that  "  every  church  member  was  a  bishop,  and, 


220       HISTORIC   FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

not  inclining  to  become  one  himself,  he  could  not  be  admitted 
a  freeman  among  them ;  that  the  General  Court  and  Quarter 
Sessions  exercised  all  the  powers  of  King's  Bench,  Common 
Pleas,  Chancery,  High  Commission,  Star  Chamber,  and  of  all 
the  other  courts  of  England."  For  some  offence  Lechford,  de- 
barred from  pleading  and  deprived  of  practice,  returned  to 
England,  to  bear  witness  against  the  colonial  magistrates.  But 
from  other  authority  than  Lechford's,  we  know  that  the  dis- 
tinction between  freeman  and  non-freeman,  members  and  non- 
members,  appeared  as  striking  to  new-comers  as  that  between 
Cavaher  and  Roundhead  in  Old  England. 

In  1687,  almost  sixty  years  from  the  hrst  settlement  of  this 
country,  there  were  but  two  attorneys  in  Massachusetts.  The 
noted  crown  agent,  Randolph,  wrote  to  a  friend  in  England,  in 
that  year,  as  follows  :  — 

"  I  have  wrote  you  the  want  we  have  of  two  or  three  honest  at- 
torneys, if  there  be  any  such  thing  in  Nature.  We  have  but  two  ; 
one  is  Mr.  West's  creature,  —  came  with  him  from  New  York,  and 
drives  all  before  him.  He  takes  extravagant  fees,  and  for  want  of 
more,  the  country  cannot  avoid  coming  to  him." 

The  other  appears  to  have  been  George  Farewell,  who  said 
in  open  court  in  Charlestown  that  all  causes  must  be  brought 
to  Boston,  because  there  were  not  honest  men  enough  in 
Middlesex  to  make  a  jury  to  serve  their  turns. 

Our  two  oldest  Universities  have  never  displayed  a  political 
bias  like  Oxford  and  Cambridge  in  Old  England,  where  the  dis- 
tinction between  Whig  and  Tory  was  so  marked  that  when 
(jeorge  I.  gave  his  library  to  Cambridge,  the  following  epigram 
appeared  :  — 

"  King  George  observing  with  judicious  eyes 
The  state  of  both  his  Universities, 
To  Oxford  sent  a  troop  of  horse  ;  for  why  ? 
That  learned  body  wanted  loyalty. 
To  Cambridge  books  he  sent,  as  well  disceniing 
How  much  that  loyal  body  wanted  learning." 


A    DAY    AT    HAEVAKD,    CONTINUED.  22i 


CHAPTER    X. 

A    DAY    AT    HARVARD,    CONTINUED. 

"  It  will  be  proved  to  thy  face  that  thou  hast  men  about  thee  that  usually 
talk  of  a  noun  and  a  verb,  and  such  abominable  words. "  —  Jack  Cade. 

THE  Marquis  of  Wellesley  is  accredited  with  having  said 
to  an  American,  *'  Establishing  a  seminary  in  Xew  Eng- 
land at  so  early  a  period  of  time  hastened  your  revolution 
half  a  century."  This  was  a  shrewd  observation,  and  aptly 
supplements  the  forecast  of  the  commissioners  of  Charles  II., 
who  said,  in  their  report,  made  about  1666  :  — 

"  It  may  be  feared  this  collidg  may  afford  as  many  scismaticks  to 
the  Church,  and  the  Corporation  as  many  rebells  to  the  King,  as  for- 
merly they  have  done  if  not  timely  prevented." 

The  earliest  contemporary  account  of  the  founding  (if  the 
College  is  found  in  a  tract  entitled  "  Xew  England's  First 
Fruits,"  dated  at  "  Boston  in  Xew  England,  September  26, 
1642,"  and  published  in  London  in  1643.  This  is,  in  point  of 
time,  nearly  coeval  with  the  University,  and  is  as  follows  :  — 

"  After  Gof]  had  carried  us  safe  to  New  England,  and  M-ee.  had 
builded  our  houses,  provided  necessaries  for  our  liveli-hood,  rea^d 
convenient  places  for  God's  worship,  and  settled  the  eivill  govern- 
ment ;  One  of  the  next  things  we  longed  for  and  looked  after  was  to 
advance  learning  and  perpetuate  it  to  posterity  ;  dreading  to  leave 
an  illiterate  ministry  to  the  churches  when  our  present  ministers 
shall  lie  in  the  dust.  And  as  wee  were  thinking  and  consulting  how 
to  effect  this  great  Avork  ;  it  pleased  God  to  stir  up  the  heart  of  ont* 
Mr.  Harvard  (a  godly  gentleman  and  a  lover  of  learning,  tlien  liv- 
ing amongst  us)  to  give  the  one  half  of  his  estate  (it  being  in  all 
about  1700  ^.) towards  the  erecting  of  aColledge  and  all  his  Library; 
After  him  another  gave  300  /.  others  after  them  cast  in  more,  and  the 
publique  hand  of  the  State  added  the  rest  :    The  Colledge  was  by 


222        HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

common  consent,  appointed  to  be  at  Cambridge,  (a  place  very  pleas- 
ant and  accommodate)  and  is  called  (according  to  the  name  of  its 
first  founder)  Harvard  CoUedge." 

The  account,  with  its  quaint  and  pertinent  title,  gives  also 
the  first  description  of  the  College  itself :  — 

"  The  edifice  is  very  faire  and  comely  within  and  without,  having 
in  it  a  spacious  hall ;  where  they  daily  meet  at  commons,  lectures 
and  Exercises  ;  and  a  large  library  with  some  bookes  to  it,  the  gifts 
of  diverse  of  our  friends,  their  chambers  and  studies  also  fitted  for, 
and  possessed  by  the  students,  and  all  other  roomes  of  ofiice  neces- 
sary and  convenient  with  all  needful  offices  thereto  belonging  :  And 
by  the  side  of  the  Colledge  a  faire  Grammar  Schoole  for  the  train- 
ing up  of  young  scholars  and  fitting  them  for  Academical  learning, 
that  still  as  they  are  judged  rij^e,  they  may  be  received  into  the 
Colledge  of  this  schoole  :  Master  Corlet  is  the  Mr.  who  hath  very 
well  approved  himself  for  his  abilities,  dexterity,  and  painfulnesse 
in  teaching  and  education  of  the  youths  under  him." 

Edward  Johnson's  account  of  ^'ew  England,  which  appeared 
in  1654,  mentions  the  single  College  building,  which  was  of 
wood,  as  the  commissioners  before  quoted  say  :  — 

"  At  Cambridge,  they  have  a  wooden  Collidg,  and  in  the  yard  a 
brick  pile  of  two  Cages  for  the  Indians,  where  the  Commissioners 
saw  but  one.     They  said  they  had  three  or  more  at  scool." 

The  Indian  seminary  was  built  by  the  corporation  in  Eng- 
land, and  in  1665  contained  eight  pupils,  one  of  whom  had 
been  admitted  into  the  College.  By  this  time  as  many  as  a 
hundred  preachers,  physicians,  and  others  had  been  educated 
and  sent  forth  by  the  CoUege. 

There  existed  formerly,  in  lieu  of  the  low  railing  at  present 
dividing  the  College  grounds  from  the  highway,  a  close  fence, 
with  an  entrance  opening  upon  the  old  College  yard  between 
Harvard  and  Massachusetts.  This  was  superseded  in  time  by 
a  more  ornamental  structure,  with  as  many  as  four  entrances, 
flanked  by  tall  gateposts.  The  present  streets,  then  but  lanes, 
were  enlarged  at  the  expense  of  the  College  territory,  thus  re- 
ducing its  area  very  materially. 


A   DAY   AT   HARVAKD,    CONTINUED.  223 

The  first  building,  or  Old  Harvard,  was  rebuilt  of  brick  in 
1672  by  the  contributions  of  the  Colony.  Of  the  £  1890  raised 
for  this  purpose,  Boston  gave  £  800. 

The  old  structures  ranging  along  the  street  which  separates 
the  College  enclosure  from  the  Common  are,  with  the  exception 
of  Stoughton,  on  their  original  sites,  and  were,  when  erected, 
fronting  the  principal  highway  through  the  town.  Harvard, 
which  is  upon  its  old  ground,  was  the  nucleus  around  which 
the  newer  halls  ranged  themselves.  Stoughton,  second  in  the 
order  of  time,  was  built  in  1698,  and  Massachusetts  in  1720. 
These  are  the  three  edifices  shown  in  an  illustration,  of  which 
the  original  was  published  by  William  Price  at  the  "  King's 
Head  and  Looking  Glass,"  in  Cornhill  (Boston),  and  is  dedi- 
cated to  Lieutenant-Governor  Spencer  Phips.  It  is  entitled  "  A 
Prospect  of  the  Colledges  in  Cambridge  in  New  England." 

The  first  Stoughton  was  placed  a  little  in  the  rear  of,  and  at 
right  angles  with.  Harvard  and  Massachusetts,  fronting  the 
open  space  between,  so  as  to  form  three  sides  of  a  quadrangle. 
It  stood  nearly  on  a  line  with  HoUis,  was  of  brick,  and  had  the 
name  of  Governor  Stoughton,  the  founder,  inscribed  upon  it. 
The  foundation-stone  was  laid  May  9,  1698,  but,  after  standing 
nearly  a  century,  having  gone  to  irremediable  decay,  it  was 
taken  down  in  1781.  A  facsimile  of  this  edifice  appears  in  the 
background  of  Governor  Stoughton's  portrait,  in  the  gallery  in 
Massachusetts  Hall. 

As  has  been  remarked,  there  is  a  probability  that  the  College 
press  was  kept  in  either  Harvard  or  Stoughton  as  early  as 
1720,  and  the  fact  that  the  types  belonging  to  the  College  were 
destroyed  by  the  fire  which  consumed  Harvard  in  1764  gives 
color  to  the  conjecture  that  the  press  was  there.  In  May, 
1775,  the  Provincial  Congress,  having  taken  possession  of  the 
College,  assigned  a  chamber  in  Stoughton  to  Samuel  and 
Ebenezer  Hall,  who  printed  the  "  N"ew  England  Chronicle  and 
Essex  Gazette  "  there  until  the  removal  of  the  army  from  Cam- 
bridge. From  this  press,  says  a  contemporary,  "  issued  streams 
of  intelligence,  and  those  patriotic  songs  and  tracts  which  so 
pre-eminently  animated  the  defenders  of  American  liberty." 


224       HISTORIC   FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

John  Fox,  who  was  born  at  Boston,  in  England,  in  1517, 
thus  speaks  of  the  art  of  printing  :  — 

"  What  man  soever  was  the  instrument  [whereby  this  invention 
was  made]  without  all  doubt,  God  himself  was  the  ordainer  and  dis- 
poser thereof,  no  otherwise  than  he  was  of  the  gift  of  tongues,  and 
that  for  a  similar  purpose." 

In  1639  the  first  printing-press  erected  in  ^N'ew  England 
was  set  up  at  Cambridge  by  Stephen  Daye,  at  the  charge  of 
Eev.  Joseph  Glover,  who  not  only  brought  over  the  printer, 
but  everything  necessary  to  the  typographic  art.  "  The  first 
thing  printed  was  '  The  Freeman's  Oath,'  the  next  an  Almanac 
made  for  New  England  by  Mr.  Pierce,  mariner ;  the  next  was 
the  Psalms  newly  turned  into  metre."  *  John  Day,  who  lived 
in  Elizabeth's  time  at  Aldersgate,  London,  was  a  famous  printer, 
who  is  understood  to  have  introduced  the  italic  characters  and 
the  first  font  of  Saxon  types  into  our  typography. 

Samuel  Green,  into  whose  possession  the  press  very  early 
came,  and  who  is  usually  considered  the  first  printer  in  America, 
was  an  inhabitant  of  Cambridge  in  1639,  and  pursued  his  call- 
ing here  for  more  than  forty  years,  when  he  removed  to  Boston. 
Green  printed  the  "  Cambridge  Platform  "  in  1 649  ;  the  Laws 
in  1660;  and  the  '-'Psalter,"  "Eliot's  Catechism,"  "Baxter's 
Call,"  and  the  Bible  in  the  Indian  language  in  1685.  Daye's 
press,  or  some  relics  of  it,  are  said  to  have  been  in  existence  as 
late  as  1809  at  Windsor,  Vt.  All  these  early  publications  are 
of  great  rarity. 

Massachusetts,  which  is  the  first  of  the  old  halls  reached  in 
coming  from  the  Square,  is  the  oldest  building  now  standing. 
It  is  but  one  remove  from,  and  is  the  oldest  existing  specimen 
in  Massachusetts  of,  our  earliest  types  of  architecture  as  applied 
to  jiublic  edifices.  Like  Harvard,  it  presents  its  end  to  the 
street,  and  faces  upon  what  was  the  College  green  a  century  and 
a  half  gone  by,  —  perhaps  the  very  place  where  Robert  Calef 's 
wicked  book  was,  by  an  edict  which  smacks  strongly  of  the' 
Inquisition,  burnt  by  order  of  Increase  Mather. 

*  Winthrop's  Journal. 


A   DAY   AT   HARVARD,    CONTINUED.  225 

The  building,  witli  its  high  gambrel  roof,  dormer  windows, 
and  wooden  balustrade  surmounting  all,  has  a  quaint  and  de- 
cidedly picturesque  appearance.  Though  nominally  of  three 
stories,  it  shows  live  tiers  of  windows  as  we  look  at  it,  above 
which  the  parapet  terminates  in  two  tall  chimneys.  Between 
each  range  of  windows  is  a  belt  giving  an  appearance  of  strength 
to  the  structure.  On  the  summit  of  the  western  gable  was  a 
clock  affixed  to  an  ornamental  wooden  tablet,  which  is  still  in 
its  place,  although  the  clock  has  long  since  disappeared,  Mas- 
sachusetts contained  thirty-two  rooms  and  sixty-four  studies, 
until  its  dilapidated  condition  compelled  the  removal  of  all  the 
interior  woodwork,  when  it  was  converted  into  a  gallery  for  the 
reception  of  the  portraits  belonging  to  the  College. 

Many  of  these  portraits  are  originals  of  Smibert,  Copley,  and 
Stuart,  which  makes  the  collection  one  of  rare  value  and  ex- 
cellence. Of  these,  two  of  the  most  characteristic  are  of  old 
Thomas  Hancock,  the  merchant  prince,  and  founder  of  the  pro- 
fessorship of  that  name,  and  of  Nicholas  Boylston,  another 
eminent  benefactor,  —  both  Copleys.  Hancock,  who  was  the 
governor's  uncle,  and  who  became  very  rich  through  his  con- 
tracts for  supplying  Loudon's  and  Amherst's  armies,  kept  a 
bookseller's  shop  at  the  "  Bible  and  Three  Crowns  "  in  Ann 
Street,  Boston,  as  early  as  1726. 

Copley  has  delineated  him  in  a  suit  of  black  velvet,  white 
silk  stockings,  and  shoes  with  gold  buckles.  One  of  the  hands 
is  gloved,  while  the  other,  uncovered,  shows  the  beautiful  mem- 
ber which  plays  so  important  a  part  in  all  of  that  painter's 
works.  The  old  gentleman's  clothes  fit  as  if  he  had  been  melt- 
ed down  and  poured  into  them,  and  his  ruffles,  big-wig,  cocked 
hat,  and  gold-headed  cane  supply  materials  for  completing  an 
attire  suited  to  the  dignity  of  a  nabob  of  1756.  The  artist 
gives  his  subject  a  double  chin,  shrewd,  smallish  eyes,  and  a 
general  expression  of  complacency  and  good-nature.  What  we 
remark  about  Copley  is  his  ability  to  paint  a  close-shaven  face 
on  which  the  beard  may  still  be  traced,  with  wonderful  faith- 
fulness to  natui'e ;  every  one  of  his  portraits  has  a  character  of 
its  own. 

10*  o 


226       HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

Boylston  is  represented  in  a  neglige  costume,  with  a  dressing- 
gown  of  blue  damask,  the  usual  purple-velvet  cap  on  his  head, 
and  his  feet  encased  in  slippers.  This  portrait  was  painted  at  the 
request  of  the  corporation  in  partial  acknowledgment  of  the 
bequest  of  £  1500  lawful  money  by  Boylston,  to  found  a  profes- 
sorship of  oratory  and  rhetoric,  of  which  John  Quincy  Adams 
was  the  first  professor.  The  portrait  ordered  by  the  College 
was  a  copy  from  the  original  by  Copley,  and  was  directed  to 
be  hung  in  the  Philosophy  Eoom  beside  those  of  Hancock  and 
HoUis. 

The  portraits  of  Thomas  Hollis,  one  of  a  family  celebrated  for 
its  many  benefactions  to  the  College,  and  of  President  Holyoke, 
are  also  by  Copley  :  that  of  John  Lovell,  the  tory  schoolmaster 
of  Boston,  is  a  Smibert.  The  full  length  of  John  Adams  ex- 
hibits a  figure  full  of  animation,  attired  in  an  elegant  suit  of 
brown  velvet,  with  dress  sword  and  short  curled  wig.  As  a 
whole,  it  may  fairly  claim  to  take  rank  with  the  superb  portrait 
of  Colonel  Josiah  Quincy  in  the  possession  of  his  descendants, 
and  overshadows  the  full  length  of  J.  Q.  Adams  by  Stuart, 
hanging  near  it.     There  is  also  a  portrait  of  Count  Eumford. 

All  these  portraits  are  admirable  studies  of  the  costumes  of 
their  time,  and  as  such  have  an  interest  rivalling  their  purely 
artistic  merits.  One  of  the  irreparable  consequences  of  the  great 
fire  in  Boston,  of  Xovember,  1872,  was  the  loss  of  a  score  or 
more  of  Copley's  portraits  which  were  stored  within  the  burnt 
district. 

In  1806  the  College  corporation  having  represented  to  the 
General  Court  that  the  proceeds  of  the  lottery  granted  for  the 
use  of  the  University  by  an  act  passed  June  14,  1794,  were  in- 
sufficient, and  that  great  and  expensive  repairs  were  necessary 
to  be  made  on  Massachusetts  Hall,  they  were  empowered  by  an 
act  passed  March  14,  to  raise  $  30,000  by  lottery,  to  erect  the 
"  new  building  called  Stoughton  Hall,"  and  for  the  purpose  of 
repairing  Massachusetts,  under  direction  of  the  President  and 
Fellows,  who  were  to  appoint  agents  and  publish  the  schemes  in 
the  papers. 

A  lottery  had  been   authorized  as   early  as    1765    to   raise 


A   DAY    AT    HARVARD,    CONTINUED. 


funds  for  the  "new  building"  (Harvard  Hall),  another  in 
1794,  —  in  which  the  College  itself  drew  the  principal  prize 
(Xo,  18,547)  of  ten  thousand 
doUa.rs,-and   still    anotlier     il|#l!#Ai^i^^^^ 

in      1811.  ''    -----     o,.r.^^. 

When  the  camps  were 
formed  at  Cambridge,  the 
College  buildings  were  found 
very  convenient  for  barracks ; 
but  as  the  greater  part  of 
the  troops  encamped  during 
the  summer  of  1775,  they 
were  made  available  for  every 
variety  of  military  offices  as 
well  as  for  a  certain  number 
of  soldiers.  In  June  Captain 
Smith  was  ordered  to  quar- 
ter in  Xo.  6,  and  Captain 
Sephens  in  Xo.  2  of  Massa- 
chusetts, while  Mr.  Adams, 
a  sutler,  was  assigned  to  Xo. 
1 7.  The  commissariat  was  in 
the  College  yard,  where  the 
details  from  all  the  posts  came 
to  draw  rations.  Xearly  two 
thousand  men  were  sheltered 
in  the  five  College  buildings 
standing  in  the  winter  of 
1 775  -  76,  of  Avhich  Harvard 
feceived  640,  Stoughton  240, 
and  the  chapel  160. 

Harvard  Hall,  as  it  now 
appears,  was  rebuilt  in  1765. 
The  fire  which  destroyed  its 
predecessor  was  supposed  to 
have  originated  under  the  hearth  of  the  library,  where  a  fire  had 
been  kept  for  the  use  of  the  General  Court,  which  was  then 


228       HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

sitting  there  on  account  of  the  prevalence  of  small-pox  in  Bos- 
ton. Two  days  after  this  accident  the  General  Court  passed 
a  resolve  to  rebuild  Harvard  Hall.  The  new  edifice  contained  a 
chapel,  dining-hall,  library,  museum,  pliilosoj)hy  chamber,  and 
an  apartment  for  the  philosophical  apparatus. 

Several  interesting  incidents  are  associated  with  the  rebuild- 
ing of  Harvard.  When  the  Eev.  George  Whitefield  was  first 
in  Xew  England  he  was  engaged  in  an  acrimonious  controversy 
with  the  President  and  some  of  the  instructors  of  the  College. 
U23on  learning  of  the  loss  the  seminary  had  sustained.  White- 
field,  putting  all  animosities  aside,  solicited  contributions  in 
England  and  Scotland  with  generous  results.  On  the  occasion 
of  the  last  visit  of  this  celebrated  preacher  to  America  every 
attention  was  paid  him  by  the  President  and  Fellows  of 
the  University.  Dr.  Appleton,  who  had  moderately  opposed 
Whitefield's  teachings,  invited  him  to  preach  in  his  pulpit,  and 
the  scene  is  said  to  have  been  one  of  great  interest. 

Harvard  Hall  was  planned  by  Governor  P>ernard,  —  a  great 
friend  of  tlie  College,  whatever  else  his  demerits,  —  and  while  it 
was  building  he  would  not  suffer  the  least  departure  from  hir- 
plan.  It  is  said  he  could  repeat  the  whole  of  Shakespeare. 
That  he  was  somewhat  sensitive  to  the  many  lampoons  levelled 
at  him  may  be  inferred  from  his  complaint  to  the  council  of  a 
piece  in  the  Boston  Gazette,  which  ended  witli  these  lines  :  — 

"  And  if  such  men  are  by  God  appointed, 
The  devil  may  be  the  Lord's  anointed." 

Shortly  after  the  arrival  of  the  troops  from  England  in  1768, 
which  was  one  of  Bernard's  measures,  the  portrait  of  the  Gov- 
ernor which  hung  in  Harvard  Hall  was  found  with  a  piece  cut 
out  of  the  breast,  exactly  describing  a  heart.  The  mutilated 
picture  disappeared  and  could  never  be  traced. 

After  Bernard's  return  home  it  was  reported,  and  currently 
believed,  that  he  was  driven  out  of  the  Smyrna  Coffee  House 
in  London,  by  General  Oglethorpe,  who  told  him  he  was  a 
dirty,  factious  scoundrel,  who  smelled  cursed  strong  of  the 
hangman.     The   General  ordered  the   Governor  to   leave  the 


A    DAY   AT   HARVARD,    CONTINUED.  229 

room  as  one  unworthy  to  mix  with  gentlemen,  but  offered  to 
give  him  the  satisfaction  of  following  him  to  the  door  had  he 
anything  to  reply.  The  Governor,  according  to  the  account, 
left  the  house  like  a  guilty  coward. 

Harvard,  the  building  of  which  Thomas  Dawes  superintended, 
stands  on  a  foundation  of  Braintree  stone,  above  which  is  a 
course  of  dressed  red  sandstone  with  a  belt  of  the  same  material 
between  the  stories.  It  is  composed  of  a  central  building  with  a 
pediment  at  either  front,  to  which  are  joined  two  wings  of  equal 
height  and  length,  each  having  a  pediment  at  the  end.  There 
are  but  two  stories,  the  lower  tier  of  windows  being  arched, 
and  the  whole  structure  surmounted  by  a  cupola.  It  was 
in  the  Philosophy  Room  of  Harvard  that  Washington  was 
received  in  1789,  and  after  breakfasting  inspected  the  library, 
museum,  &c. 

The  three  buildings  which  we  have  described  are  those  seen 
by  Captain  Goelet  in  1750.'^     He  says  :  — 

"  After  dinner  Mr.  Jacob  Wendell,  Abraham  Wendell,  and  self 
took  horse  and  went  to  see  Cambridge,  which  is  a  neat,  pleasant 
village,  and  consists  of  about  an  hundred  houses  and  three  Col- 
leges, which  are  a  plain  old  fabrick  of  no  manner  of  architect,  and 
the  present  much  out  of  repair,  is  situated  on  one  side  of  the  Towne 
and  forms  a  large  Square  ;  its  apartments  are  pretty  large.  Drank  a 
glass  wine  with  the  collegians,  returned  and  stopt  at  Richardson's 
where  bought  some  fowles  and  came  home  in  the  evening  which  we 
spent  at  Wetherhead's  ^vith  sundry  gentlemen." 

Hollis  and  the  second  Stoughton  Hall,  both  standing  to  the 
north  of  Harvard,  are  in  the  same  style  of  architecture.  The 
first,  named  for  Thomas  Hollis,  was  begun  in  1762  and  com- 
pleted in  1763.  It  was  set  on  fire  when  Old  Harvard  Avas 
consumed,  and  was  struck  by  lightning  in  1768.  Thomas 
Dawes  was  the  architect.  Stoughton  was  built  during  the 
years  1804,  1805.  They  have  each  four  stories,  and  are  exceed- 
ingly plain  "  old  fabrics  "  of  red  brick.  Standing  in  front  of 
the  interval  between  these  is  Hoi  den  Chapel,  built  in  1745  at 

*  N.  E.  Hist,  and  Geu.  Register. 


230       HISTORIC   FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

the  cost  of  the  widow  and  daughters  of  Samuel  Holden,  one  of 
the  directors  of  the  Bank  of  England.  It  was  first  used  for  the 
College  devotions,  subsequently  for  the  American  courts-martial, 
and  afterwards  for  anatomical  lectures  and  dissections.  It  be- 
came in  1800  devoted  to  lecture  and  recitation  rooms  for  the 
professors  and  tutors.  Holworthy  Hall,  which  stands  at  right 
angles  with  Stoughton,  was  erected  in  1812.  Besides  the  live 
brick  edifices  standing  in  1800,  was  also  what  was  then  called 
the  College  House,  a  three-story  wooden  building,  standing 
without  the  College  yard,  containing  twelve  rooms  with  studies. 
It  was  originally  built  in  1770  for  a  private  dwelling,  and  pur- 
chased soon  after  by  the  College  corporation.  University  HaU, 
built  in  1812-13  of  Chelmsford  granite,  is  placed  upon  the 
site  of  the  old  Bog  Pond  and  within  the  limits  of  the  Wiggles- 
Avorth  Ox  Pasture.  This  building  had  once  a  narrow  escape 
from  being  blown  up  by  the  students,  the  explosion  being 
heard  at  a  great  distance.  A  little  southeast  of  HoUis  is  the 
supposed  site  of  the  Indian  college. 

It  does  not  fall  within  our  purpose  to  recite  the  history  of 
the  more  modern  buildings  grouped  around  the  interior  quad- 
rangle, with  its  magnificent  elms  and  shady  walks  ;  its  elegant 
and  lofty  dormitories,  and  its  classic  lore.  Our  business  is 
with  the  old  fabrics,  the  ancient  pastimes  and  antiquated  cus- 
toms of  former  generations  of  Senior  and  Junior,  Sophomore 
and  Freshman. 

It  Avas  a  warm  spring  afternoon  when  we  stood  within  the 
quadrangle  and  slaked  our  thirst  at  the  wooden  punqj.  A 
longing  to  throw  one's  self  upon  the  grass  under  one  of  those 
inviting  trees  was  rudely  repelled  by  the  painted  admonition, 
met  at  every  turn,  to  "  Keep  off  the  Grass."  The  government 
does  not  waste  words ;  it  orders,  and  its  regulations  assimilate 
to  those  of  the  Medes  and  Persians,  which  altereth  not.  Never- 
theless, a  few  benches  would  not  seem  out  of  place  here,  when 
we  recall  how  the  sages  of  Greece  instructed  their  disciples  as 
they  walked  or  while  seated  under  some  shady  bough,  as  Soc- 
rates is  described  by  Plato. 

Looking  up  at  the  open  windows  of  the  dormitories,  we  saw 


W'A  ,1)1    \/,   ;    ---  ^iv^U 


'  fill  1, Hi  \^.  :  w^c5fL^> ^-  ~ r,_.Xt^u4fe^^fer;^  viv4;  ^w^  ^fefkiyi 


_^3as 


i^-3.  r^ai.  Iss.     - 


232      HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

that  not  a  few  were  garnished  with  booted  or  slippered  feet. 
This  seemed  the  favorite  attitude  for  study,  by  which  knowl- 
edge, absorbed  at  the  pedal  extremities,  is  conducted  by  the 
inclined  plane  of  the  legs  to  the  body,  finally  mounting  as  high 
as  its  source,  siphon-hke,  to  the  brain.  Any  movement  by  which 
the  feet  might  be  lowered  during  this  process  would,  we  are 
persuaded,  cause  the  hardly  gained  learning  to  flow  back  again 
to  the  feet.  Others  of  the  students  were  squatted  in  Indian 
fashion,  their  elbows  on  their  knees,  their  chins  resting  in  their 
palms,  with  knitted  brows  and  eyes  hxed  on  vacancy,  in  which, 
did  we  possess  the  conjurer's  art,  the  coming  University  boat- 
race  or  the  last  base-ball  tournament  would,  we  fancy,  appear 
instead  of  Latin  classics.  Perhaps  we  have  not  rightly  inter- 
preted the  expressions  of  others,  which  seemed  to  say,  in  the 
language  of  one  whose  brain  was  stretched  upon  the  same  rack 
a  century  and  a  quarter  ago  :  — 

'•'  Now  algebra,  geometry, 
Aritlniietick,  astronomy, 
Opticks,  chronology  and  staticks, 
All  tiresome jjarts  of  mathematics, 
With  twenty  harder  names  than  these, 
Disturb  my  brains  and  break  my  peace." 

It  was  formerly  the  practice  of  the  Sophomores  to  notify  the 
Freshmen  to  assemble  in  the  Chapel,  where  they  were  indoc- 
trinated in  the  ancient  customs  of  the  College,  the  latter  being 
required  "  to  keep  their  places  in  their  seats,  and  attend  with 
decency  to  the  reading."  Among  these  customs,  descended 
from  remote  times,  was  one  which  forbade  a  Freshman  "to 
wear  his  hat  in  the  College  yard,  unless  it  rains,  hails,  or  snows, 
provided  he  be  on  foot,  and  have  not  both  hands  full."  The 
same  prohibition  extended  to  all  undergraduates  when  any  of 
the  governors  of  the  College  were  in  the  yard.  These  absurd 
"relics  of  barbarism"  had  become  entirely  obsolete  before  1800. 

The  degrading  custom  which  made  a  Freshman  subservient 
to  all  other  classes,  and  obliged  him  to  go  of  errands  like  a  pot- 
boy in  an  alehouse,  the  Senior  having  the  prior  claim  to  his 
service,    died  a   natural    death,    without   the    interposition    of 


A   DAY   AT   HARVARD,    CONTINUED.  233 

authority.  It  became  the  practice  under  this  state  of  things 
for  a  Freshman  to  choose  a  Senior  as  a  patron,  to  whom  he 
acknowledged  service,  and  who,  on  his  part,  rendered  due  pro- 
tection to  his  servitor  from  the  demands  of  others.  These  petty 
offices,  when  not  unreasonably  required,  could  be  enforced  by 
an  appeal  to  a  tutor.  The  President  and  immediate  govern- 
ment had  also  their  Freshmen.  It  is  noteworthy  that  the 
abolition  of  this  menial  custom  was  recommended  by  the  Over- 
seers as  early  as  1772;  but  the  Corporation,  which,  doubtless,  de- 
rived too  many  advantages  from  a  continuance  of  the  practice, 
rejected  the  proposal. 

Another  custom  obliged  the  Freshman  to  measure  his  strength 
with  the  Sophomore  in  a  wrestling-match,  which  usually  took 
place  during  the  second  week  in  the  term  on  the  College  play- 
ground, which  formerl}^  bounded  on  Charlestown  road,  now 
Kirkland  Street,  and  included  about  an  acre  and  a  half  This 
playground  was  enclosed  by  a  close  board  fence,  which  began 
about  fifty  feet  north  of  Hollis  and  extended  back  about  three 
hundred  feet,  separating  the  playground  from  the  College 
buildings.  The  playground  had  a  front  on  the  Common  of 
about  sixty-five  feet,  and  was  entered  on  the  side  of  Hollis. 

"  This  enclosure,  an  irregular  square,  contained  two  thirds  or  more 
of  the  ground  on  which  Stoughton  stands,  the  greater  part  of  the 
land  on  which  Holworthy  stands,  together  with  about  the  same 
quantity  of  land  in  front  of  the  same,  the  land  back  of  Holworthy, 
including  part  of  a  road  since  laid  out,  and  perhaps  a  very  small 
portion  of  the  western  extremity  of  the  Delta,  so  called."  * 

This  was  the  College  gymnasia,  where  the  students,  after 
evening  prayers,  ran,  leaped,  wrestled,  played  at  quoits  or 
cricket,  and  at  good,  old-fashioned,  obsolete  bat  and  ball,  —  not 
the  dangerous  pastime  of  to-day,  but  where  you  stood  up,  man- 
fashion,  with  nothing  worse  resulting  than  an  occasional  eye  in 

'  Like  sportive  deer  they  coursed  about, 
And  shouted  as  they  ran, 
Turning  to  mirth  all  things  of  earth, 
As  only  boyhood  can." 

*  Willard. 


234      HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

Any  account  of  Harvard  which  ignored  the  clubs  would  be 
incomplete.  Besides  the  Phi  Beta  Kappa  was  the  Porcellian, 
founded  by  the  Seniors  about  1793.  It  was  originally  called 
the  Pig  Club,  but,  for  some  unknown  reason,  this  homely  but  ex- 
pressive derivation  was  translated  into  a  more  euphonious  title. 
A  writer  remarks  that  learned  pigs  have  sometimes  been  on  ex- 
hibition, but,  to  our  mind,  to  have  been  educated  among  them 
would  be  but  an  ill  passport  into  good  society.  There  was  also 
the  Hasty  Pudding  Club,  —  a  name  significant  of  that  savory, 
farinaceous  substance,  the  dish  of  many  generations  of  Xew- 
Englanders.  Whether  this  society  owed  its  origin  to  sumptuary 
regulations  we  are  unable  to  say  ;  but  a  kettle  of  the  article, 
steaming  hot,  suspended  to  a  pole,  and  borne  by  a  brace  of 
students  across  the  College  yard,  were  Avortli  a  visit  to  Old 
Harvard  to  have  witnessed. 

Commencement,  Neal  says,  was  formerly  a  festival  second 
only  to  the  day  of  the  election  of  the  magistrates,  usually 
termed  ''Election  Day."  The  account  in  " Xew  England's 
First  Fruits "  gives  the  manner  of  conducting  the  academical 
exercises  in  1642  :  — 

"The  students  of  the  first  classis  that  have  beene  these  foure  yeeres* 
trained  up  in  University  learning  (for  their  ripening  in  the  knowl- 
edge of  tongues  and  arts)  and  are  approved  for  then*  manners,  as 
they  have  kept  their  public  Acts  in  former  yeares,  ourselves  being 
present  at  them  ;  so  have  they  lately  kej^t  two  solemn  Acts  for  their 
Commencement,  when  Governour,  Magistrates  and  the  Ministers 
from  all  parts,  with  all  sorts  of  schoUars,  and  others  ui  great  num- 
bers were  present  and  did  heare  their  exercises  ;  which  were  Latino 
and  Greeke  Orations,  and  Declamations,  and  Hebrew  Analasis, 
Grammatical],  Logicall  and  Rhetoricall  of  the  Psalms  ;  And  their 
answers  and  disputations  in  Logicall,  Ethicall,  Physicall,  and  Meta- 
physicall  questions  ;  and  so  were  found  worthy  of  the  first  degree 
(commonly  called  Bachelour  pro  more  Academiarum  in  Anglia)  ; 
Being  first  presented  by  the  President  to  the  Magistrates  and  Minis- 
ters, and  by  him  upon  their  approbation,  solemnly  admitted  unto 
the  same  degree,  and  a  booke  of  arts  delivered  into  each  of  their 
hands,  and  the  power  given  them  to  read  Lectures  in  the  hall  upon 

*  Fixing  the  foiiuding  in  1638. 


A   DAY    AT    HARVARD,    CONTINUED.  235 

any  of  the  arts,  when  they  shall  be  thereunto  called,  and  a  liberty 
of  studying  in  the  library." 

Commencement  continued  to  be  celebrated  as  a  red-letter 
day,  second  only  to  the  republican  anniversary  of  the  Fourth 
of  July.  The  merry-makings  under  the  tents  and  awnings 
erected  within  the  College  grounds,  for  the  entertainment  of  the 
guests,  who  had  assembled  to  do  honor  to  the  literary  triumphs 
of  their  friends  or  relatives,  were  completely  eclipsed  by  the 
saturnalia  going  on  without  on  the  neighboring  Common.  This 
space  was  covered  with  booths,  within  which  the  hungry  and 
thirsty  might  find  refreshment,  or  the  unwary  be  initiated  into 
the  mysteries  of  sweat-cloth,  dice,  or  roulette.  Side-shows, 
mth  performing  monkeys,  dogs,  or  perhaps  a  tame  bear,  less 
savage  than  his  human  tormentors,  drew  their  gaping  multi- 
tudes, ever  in  movement,  from  point  to  point.  Gaming  was 
freely  indulged  in,  and  the  Maine  Law  was  not.  As  the  day 
waxed,  the  liquor  began  to  produce  its  legitimate  results, 
swearing  and  fighting  taking  the  place  of  the  less  exciting  ex- 
hibitions. The  crowd  surged  around  the  scene  of  each  pugilistic 
encounter,  upsetting  the  booths,  and  vociferating  encouragement 
to  the  combatants.  The  best  man  emerged  with  battered  nose, 
eyes  swelled  and  inflamed,  his  clothes  in  tatters,  to  receive  the 
plaudits  of  the  mob  and  the  pledge  of  victory  in  another  bowl 
of  grog,  while  the  A^anquished  sneaked  away  amid  the  jeers  and 
derision  of  the  men  and  the  hootings  of  the  boys.  These  orgies, 
somewhat  less  violent  at  the  beginning  of  the  present  century, 
were  by  degrees  brought  within  the  limits  of  decency,  and 
finally  disappeared  altogether.  This  was  one  of  those  "  good 
old  time  "  customs  which  we  have  sometimes  known  recalled 
with  long-drawn  sigh  and  woful  shake  of  the  head  over  our 
own  days  of  State  police,  lemonade,  and  degeneracy.  During 
the  early  years  of  the  Revolution,  and  as  late  as  1778,  there 
was  no  public  Commencement  at  Harvard. 

Dress  was  a  matter  to  which  students  gave  littli?  heed  at  the 
beginning  of  the  century.  The  College  laws  required  them  to 
wear  coats  of  blue-gray,  with  gowns  as  a  substitute,  in  warm 
weather,  —  except  on  public  occasions,  when  black  gowns  were 


236       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

permitted.  Little  does  your  spruce  young  undergraduate  of 
to-day  resemble,  in  this  respect,  his  predecessor,  who  went  about 
the  College  grounds,  and  even  the  village,  attired  in  summer  in 
a  loose,  long  gown  of  calico  or  gingham,  varied  in  winter  by 
a  similar  garment  of  woollen  stutf,  called  lambskin.  With  a 
cocked  hat  on  his  head,  and  peaked-toed  shoes  on  his  feet,  your 
collegian  was  not  a  bad  counterpart  of  Dominie  Sampson  in 
dishabille,  if  not  in  leariiing.  Knee-breeches  began  to  be  dis- 
carded about  1800  by  the  young  men,  but  were  retained  by  a 
few  of  the  elders  until  about  1825,  when  pantaloons  had  so  far 
established  themselves  that  it  was  unusual  to  see  small-clothes 
except  upon  the  limbs  of  some  aged  relic  of  the  old  regime. 
Top-boots,  with  the  yellow  lining  falling  over,  and  cordovans, 
or  half-boots,  made  of  elastic  leather,  fitting  itself  to  the  shape 
of  the  leg,  belonged  to  the  time  of  which  we  are  writing.  The 
tendency,  it  must  be  admitted,  has  been  towards  improvement, 
and  the  present  generation  fully  comprehends  how 

"  Braid  claith  lends  fouk  an  unca  heeze  ; 
Maks  mony  kail-worms  butterflees  ; 
Gies  mouy  a  doctor  his  degrees, 

For  little  skaith  ; 
In  short  you  may  be  what  you  please, 

W'i  guid  braid  claith." 

An  example  of  the  merits  of  dress  was  somewhat  ludicrously 
presented  by  a  colloquy  between  two  Harvard  men  who  arrived 
at  eminence,  and  who  were  as  wide  apart  as  the  poles  in  their 
attention  to  personal  appearance.  Theophilus  Parsons  was  a 
man  very  negligent  of  his  outward  seeming,  while  Harrison 
Gray  Otis  was  noted  for  his  fine  linen  and  regard  for  his  apparel. 
The  elegant  Otis,  having  to  cross-examine  a  witness  in  court 
whose  appearance  was  slovenly  in  the  extreme,  commented 
upon  the  man's  filthy  exterior  with  severity,  and  spoke  of  him 
as  a  "  dirty  fellow,"  because  he  had  on  a  dirty  shirt.  Parsons, 
whose  witness  it  was,  objected  to  the  badgering  of  Otis. 

"  Why,"  said  Otis,  turning  to  Parsons,  with  ill-concealed 
irony,  "  how  many  shirts  a  week  do  you  wear,  Brother  Par- 
sons % " 


A    DAY   AT    HARVARD,    CONTINUED.  237 

"  I  wear  one  shirt  a  week,"  was  the  reply.  '*  How  many  do 
you  wear  1 " 

"  I  change  my  shirt  every  day,  and  sometimes  oftener,"  said 
Otis. 

"  Well,"  retorted  Parsons,  "  you  must  be  a  '  dirty  fellow '  to 
soil  seven  shirts  a  week  when  I  do  but  one." 

There  was  a  sensation  in  the  court-room,  and  Mr.  Otis  sat 
down  with  his  plumage  a  little  ruffled. 

"  For  though  you  had  as  wise  a  snout  on, 
As  Shakespeare  or  Sii-  Isaac  Newton, 
Your  judgment  fouk  woidd  hae  a  doubt  on, 

I  '11  tak  my  aith, 
Till  they  would  see  ye  wi'  a  suit  on 
0'  guid  braid  claith." 

The  silken  "  Oxford  Caps,"  formerly  worn  in  public  by  the 
collegians,  are  well  remembered.  These  were  abandoned,  in 
public  places,  through  the  force  of  circumstances  alone,  as  they 
drew  attentions  of  no  agreeable  nature  upon  the  wearer  when 
he  wandered  from  the  protecting  tegis  of  his  Alma  Mater.  In 
the  neighboring  city,  should  his  steps  unfortunately  tend  thither, 
the  sight  of  his  headpiece  at  once  aroused  the  war-cries  of  the 
clans  of  Cambridge  Street  and  the  West  End.  "  An  Oxford 
Cap  !  an  Oxford  Cap  !  "  reverberated  through  the  dirty  lanes, 
and  was  answered  by  the  instant  muster  of  an  ill-omened  rabble 
of  sans-cidoftes.  Stones,  mud,  and  unsavory  eggs  were  showered 
upon  the  wretched  "  Soph,"  whose  conduct  on  these  occasions 
justified  the  derivation  of  his  College  title.  Sometimes  he  stood 
his  ground  to  be  pummelled  until  within  an  inch  of  taking  his 
degree  in  another  world,  and  finally  to  see  his  silken  helmet 
borne  off  in  triumph  at  the  end  of  a  broomstick  ;  generally, 
however,  he  obeyed  the  dictates  of  discretion  and  took  incon- 
tinently to  his  heels.  At  sight  of  these  ugly  black  bonnets, 
worthy  a  familiar  of  the  Inquisition,  the  whole  neighborhood 
seemed  stirred  to  its  centre  with  a  frenzy  only  to  be  assuaged 
when  the  student  doffed  his  obnoxious  casque  or  fled  across  the 
hostile  border. 

The  collegians,  with  a  commendable  esprit  du  corps,  and  a 


2o8        HISTORIC   FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

valor  worthy  a  better  cause,  clung  to  their  caps  with  a  chivalric 
devotion  born  alone  of  persecution.  They  learned  to  visit  the 
city  in  bands  instead  of  singly,  but  this  only  brought  into 
action  the  reserves  of  "  i*^igger  Hill,"  and  enlarged  the  war. 
The  Xorth  made  common  cause  with  the  West,  and  South  End 
with  both.  The  Harvard  boys  armed  themselves,  and  some 
dangerous  night-affrays  took  place  in  the  streets,  for  which  the 
actors  were  cited  before  the  authorities.  Common-sense  at 
length  put  an  end  to  the  disturbing  cause,  in  which  the  stu- 
dents were  obliged  to  confess  the  game  was  not  worth  the 
candle.  The  Oxford  Caps  were  hung  on  the  dormitory  pegs, 
and  order  reigned  in  Warsaw. 

It  is  not  designed  to  enumerate  the  many  distinguished  sons 
of  Old  Harvard  whose  names  illuminate  history.  This  is  now 
being  done  in  a  series  of  biographies  from  an  able  pen.*  One 
of  the  first  class  of  graduates  was  George  Downing,  who  went 
to  England  and  became  Chaplain  to  Colonel  Okey's  regiment, 
in  Cromwell's  army,  —  the  same  whom  he  afterwards  betrayed 
in  order  to  ingratiate  himself  in  the  favor  of  Charles  II.  He 
was  a  brother-in-law  of  Governor  Bradstreet  and  a  good  friend 
to  Xew  England.  Doctor  Johnson  characterized  him  as  the 
"  dog  Downing."  He  was  ambassador  to  the  states  of  Hol- 
land, and  notwithstanding  his  reputation,  soiled  by  the  l)etrayal 
of  some  of  his  republican  friends  to  the  block,  was  a  man  of 
genius  and  address.  Xo  other  evidence  is  needed  to  show  that 
he  was  a  scoundrel  than  the  record  of  his  treatment  of  his 
mother,  in  her  old  age,  as  related  by  herself :  — 

"  But  I  am  now  att  ten  pounde  ayear  for  my  chamber  and  3 
pound  for  my  seruants  wages,  and  haue  to  extend  the  other  tene 
pound  a  year  to  accomadat  for  our  meat  and  drinck  ;  and  for  my 
clothing  and  all  other  necessaries  I  am  much  to  seeke,  and  more 
your  brother  Georg  will  not  liear  of  for  me  ;  and  that  it  is  onely 
couetousness  that  maks  me  aske  more.  He  last  sumer  bought  an- 
other town,  near  Hatly,  called  Clappum,  cost  him  13  or  14  thou- 
sand pound,  and  I  really  beleeue  one  of  us  2  are  couetous." 

Downing  Street,  London,  was  named  for  Sir  George  when 

*  John  L.  Sibley,  Librarian. 


A   DAY   AT    HARVAKD,    CONTINUED.  Z6\) 

the  office  of  Lord  Treasurer  was  put  in  commission  (May, 
1667),  and  Downing  College,  Cambridge,  England,  was  founded 
by  a  grandson  of  the  baronet,  in  1717. 

The  class  of  1763  was  in  many  respects  a  remarkable  one, 
fruitful  in  loyalists  to  the  mother  country.  Three  refugee 
judges  of  the  Supreme  Court,  of  which  number  Sampson  Salter 
Blowers  lived  to  be  a  hundred,  and,  with  the  exception  of  Dr. 
Holyoke,  the  oldest  of  the  Harvard  alumni ;  Bliss  of  Spring- 
held  and  Upham  of  Brookfield,  afterwards  judges  of  the  high- 
est court  in  ^ew  Brunswick  ;  Dr.  John  Jeffries,  the  celebrated 
surgeon  of  Boston,  and  others  of  less  note.  On  the  Whig  side 
were  Colonel  Timothy  Pickering,  General  Jedediah  Hunting- 
ton, who  pronounced  the  first  English  oration  ever  delivered  at 
Commencement,  and  Hon.  Nathan  Cushing. 

Benjamin  Pratt,  afterwards  Chief  Justice  of  New  York  under 
the  crown,  was  a  graduate  of  1737.  He  had  been  bred  a  me- 
chanic, but,  having  met  with  a  serious  injury  that  disabled  him 
from  pursuing  his  trade,  turned  his  attention  to  study.  Gov- 
ernors Belcher,  Hutchinson,  Dummer,  Spencer  Phips,  Bowdoin, 
Strong,  Gerry,  Eustis,  Everett,  T.  L.  Winthrop,  the  two  Presi- 
dents Adams  and  the  Governor  of  that  name,  are  of  those  who 
have  been  distinguished  in  high  political  positions.  The  names 
of  those  who  have  become  eminent  in  law,  medicine,  and  divin- 
ity would  make  too  formidable  a  catalogue  for  our  limits. 

The  Marquis  Chastellux,  writing  in  1782,  says  :  — 

"  I  must  here  repeat,  what  I  have  observed  elsewhere,  that  in 
comparing  our  universities  and  our  studies  in  general  with  those  of 
the  Americans,  it  would  not  be  to  our  interest  to  call  for  a  decision 
of  the  question,  which  of  the  two  nations  should  be  considered  an 
infant  people." 

A  University  education,  upon  which,  perhaps,  too  great 
stress  is  laid  by  a  few  narrow  minds  who  would  found  an 
aristocracy  of  learning  in  the  republic  of  letters,  is  unquestion- 
ably of  great  advantage,  though  not  absolutely  essential  to  a 
successful  public  career.  It  is  a  passport  wdiich  smooths  the 
way,  if  it  does  not  guarantee  superiority.     Perhaps  it   has  a 


240       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

tendency  to  a  clannislmess  which  has  hut  Kttle  sympathy  with 
those  whose  acquirements  have  heen  gained  while  sternly 
fighting  the  battle  of  life  in  the  pursuit  of  a  livelihood. 
Through  its  means  many  have  achieved  honor  and  distinction, 
while  not  a  few  have  arrived  at  the  goal  without  it.  Franklin, 
Eumford,  Rittenhouse,  and  William  Wirt  are  examples  of  so- 
called  self-made  men  which  it  would  be  needless  to  multiply. 
Even  in  England  the  proportion  of  collegians  in  public  life  is 
small.  Twenty-five  years  ago  Lord  Lyndhurst  said  in  a  speech 
that,  when  he  began  his  political  career  a  majority  of  the  House 
of  Commons  had  received  a  University  education,  while  at  the 
time  of  which  he  was  speaking  not  more  than  one  fifth  had 
been  so  educated.  The  practice  which  prevails  in  our  country, 
especially  at  the  West,  of  distinguishing  every  country  semi- 
nary with  the  name  of  college,  is  deserving  of  unquaUfied 
reprobation. 

It  would  be  curious  to  trace  the  antecedents  of  the  posses- 
sors of  some  of  the  great  names  in  history.  Columbus  was 
a  weaver ;  Sixtus  V.  kept  swine ;  Ferguson  and  Burns  were 
shepherds ;  Defoe  was  a  hosier's  apprentice ;  Hogarth,  an  en- 
graver of  pewter  pots  ;  Ben  Jonson  was  a  brick-layer  ;  Cer- 
vantes was  a  common  soldier ;  Halley  was  the  son  of  a  soap- 
boiler ;  Ark  Wright  was  a  barber,  and  Belzoni  the  son  of  a  bar- 
ber ;  Canova  was  the  son  of  a  stone-cutter,  and  Shakespeare 
commenced  life  as  a  menial. 

The  historic  associations  of  Harvard  are  many  and  interest- 
ing. The  buildings  have  frequently  been  used  by  the  legislative 
branches  of  the  provincial  government.  In  1729  the  General 
Court  sat  here,  having  been  adjourned  from  Salem  by  Governor 
Burnet,  in  August.  Again  in  the  stormy  timfes  of  1770  the 
Court  was  prorogued  by  Hutchinson  to  meet  here  instead  of  at 
its  ancient  seat  in  Boston.  AVagers  were  laid  at  great  odds 
that  the  Assembly  would  not  proceed  to  do  business,  considering 
themselves  as  under  restraint.  They,  however,  opened  their 
session  under  protest,  by  a  vote  of  59  yeas  to  29  nays.  Urgent 
public  business  gave  the  Governor  a  triumph,  which  was  ren- 
dered as  empty  as  possible  by  every  annoyance  the  members  in 


A    DAY   AT   HARVARD,    CONTINUED.  241 

their  ingenuity  could  invent.  The  preceding  May  the  election 
of  councillors  had  been  held  in  Cambridge,  conformably  to 
Governor  Hutchinson's  orders,  but  contrary  to  the  charter  and 
tlie  sense  of  the  whole  province.  This  was  done  to  preyent 
any  popular  demonstration  in  Boston,  but  the  patriotic  party 
celebrated  the  day  there,  and  their  friends  flocked  into  town 
from  the  country  as  usual.  An  ox  was  roasted  whole  on  the 
Common  and  given  to  the  populace. 

The  tragic  events  of  the  5th  of  March,  1770,  had  occasioned 
great  indignation  and  uneasiness,  which  the  acquittal  of  Cap- 
tain Preston  and  his  soldiers  contributed  to  keep  alive.  The 
following  is  a  copy  of  the  paper  posted  upon  the  door  of  Boston 
Town  House  (Old  State  House),  December  13,  1770,  and  for 
which  Governor  Hutchinson  oftered  a  reward  of  a  hundred 
pounds  lawful  money,  to  be  paid  out  of  the  public  treasury. 
Otway's  "  Venice  Preserved  "  seems  to  have  furnished  the  text 
to  the  writer  :  — 

"  To  see  the  sufferings  of  my  fellow -townsmen 
And  own  myself  a  man  ;  To  see  the  Court 
Cheat  the  injured  people  with  a  shew 
Of  justice,  which  toe  ne'er  cfwi  taste  of ; 
Drive  us  like  wrecks  down  the  rough  tide  of  power. 
While  no  hold  is  left  to  save  us  from  destruction, 
All  that  bear  this  are  slaves,  and  we  as  such, 
Not  to  rouse  xip  at  the  great  call  of  Nature 
And  free  the  world  from  such  domestic  tyrants." 

Harvard  has  not  been  free  from  those  insurrectionary  ebulli- 
tions common  to  universities.  In  most  instances  they  have 
originated  in  Commons  Hall ;  the  grievances  of  the  stomach, 
if  not  promptly  redressed,  leading  to  direful  results.  Sydney 
Smith  once  remarked,  that  "  old  friendships  are  destroyed  by 
toasted  cheese,  and  hard  salted  meat  has  led  to  suicide."  The 
stomachs  of  the  students  seem,  on  sundry  occasions,  to  have 
been  no  less  sensitive. 

In  1674  all  the  scholars,  except  three  or  four  whose  friends 
lived  in  Cambridge,  left  the  College.  In  the  State  archives 
exists  a  curious  document  relative  to  a  difficulty  about  com- 
mons at  an  early  period  in  the  history  of  the  College.  It  is  the 
11  p 


242      HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

confession  of  [N'athaniel  Eaton  and  wife,  who  were  cited  before 
the  General  Court  for  misdemeanors  in  providing  diet  for  the 
students.  In  Mrs.  Eaton's  confession  the  following  passage 
occurs  :  — 

"  And  for  bad  fish,  that  they  had  it  brought  to  table,  I  am  sorry 
there  was  that  cause  of  offence  given  them.  I  acknowledge  my  sin 
in  it.  And  for  their  mackerel,  brought  to  them  with  their  guts  in 
them,  and  goat's  dung  in  their  hasty  pudding,  its  utterly  unknown 
to  me  ;  but  I  am  much  ashamed  it  should  be  in  the  family  and  not 
prevented  by  myself  or  servants  and  I  humbly  acknowledge  my 
negligence  in  it." 

The  affair  of  the  resignation  of  Dr.  Langdon  has  been  men- 
tioned. In  1807  there  was  a  general  revolt  of  all  the  classes 
against  their  commons,  which  brought  the  affairs  of  the  College 
nearly  to  a  stand  for  about  a  month.  The  classes,  having  en 
masse  refused  to  attend  commons,  were  considered  in  the  light 
of  outlaws  by  the  government,  and  were  obliged  to  subscribe  to 
a  form  of  apology  dictated  by  it  to  obtain  readmission.  Many 
refused  to  sign  a  confession  a  little  humiliating,  and  left  the 
College ;  but  the  greater  number  of  the  prodigals  accepted  the 
alternative,  though  we  do  not  learn  that  any  fatted  calf  was 
killed  to  celebrate  the  return  of  harmony.  This  was  during 
Dr.  Webber's  presidency. 

The  students  have  ever  been  imbued  ^vith  strong  patriotic 
feelings.  In  1768  the  Seniors  unanimously  agreed  to  take  their 
degrees  at  Commencement  dressed  in  black  cloth  of  the  manu- 
facture of  the  country.  In  1812  they  proceeded  in  a  body  to 
work  on  the  forts  in  Boston  harbor.  In  the  great  Rebellion  the 
names  of  Harvard's  sons  are  inscribed  among  the  heroic,  living 
or  dead  for  their  country. 

The  seal  of  Harvard  was  "  adopted  at  the  first  meeting  of  the 
governors  of  the  College  after  the  first  charter  was  obtained. 
On  the  27th  of  December,  1643,  a  College  seal  was  adopted, 
having,  as  at  present,  three  open  books  on  the  field  of  an 
heraldic  shield,  with  the  motto  Veritas  inscribed."  This,  says 
Mr.  Quincy,  is  the  only  seal  which  has  the  sanction  of  any 
record.     The  first  seal  actually  used  had  the  motto  "In  Christi 


A  DAY  AT  HARVARD,   CONTINUED.  243 

Gloriam^^  which  conveys  the  idea  of  a  school  of  theology,  and 
is  indirectly  sanctioned  by  the  later  motto,  Christo  et  Ecclesice. 

The  Americans  threw  up  works  on  the  College  green  in 
1775,  which  were  probably  among  the  earliest  erected  by  the 
Colony  forces.  They  were  begun  in  May,  and  extended  towards 
the  river.  An  aged  resident  of  Cambridge  informed  the  writer 
that  a  fort  had  existed  in  what  is  now  Holyoke  Place,  leading 
from  Mount  Auburn  Street,  —  a  point  which  may  be  assumed 
to  indicate  the  right  flank  of  the  first  position.  The  lines  in 
the  vicinity  of  the  College  were  carefully  effaced,  some  few 
traces  being  remarked  in  1824.  They  were,  in  all  probability, 
hastily  planned,  and  soon  abandoned  for  the  Dana  Hill  posi- 
tion, by  which  they  were  commanded. 

The  first  official  action  upon  fortifications  which  appears  on 
record  is  the  recommendation  of  a  joint  committee  of  the  Com- 
mittee of  Safety  and  the  council  of  war  —  a  body  composed  of 
the  general  officers  —  to  throw  up  works  on  Charlestown  road, 
a  redoubt  on  what  is  supposed  to  have  been  Prospect  Hill  to 
be  armed  with  9-pounders,  and  a  strong  redoubt  on  Bunker 
Hill  to  be  mounted  with  cannon.  These  works  were  proposed 
on  the  1 2th  of  May.  The  reader  knows  that  the  execution  of 
the  last-named  work  brought  on  the  battle  on  that  ground. 

Ever  since  Lexington  the  Americans  looked  for  another  sally 
of  the  royal  forces.  They  expected  it  would  be  by  way  of 
Charlestown,  and  have  the  camps  at  Cambridge  for  its  object. 
By  landing  a  force  on  Charlestown  Xeck,  which  the  command 
of  the  water  always  enabled  them  to  do,  the  enemy  were  ^^athin 
a  little  more  than  two  miles  of  headquarters,  while  a  force 
coming  from  Roxbury  side  must  first  beat  Thomas's  troops  sta- 
tioned there,  and  then  have  a  long  detour  of  several  miles  be- 
fore they  could  reach  the  river,  where  the  passage  might  bo 
expected  to  be  blocked  by  the  destruction  of  the  bridge,  and 
would  at  any  rate  cost  a  severe  action,  under  great  disadvantage, 
to  have  forced.  A  landing  along  the  Cambridge  shore  was  im- 
practicable. It  was  a  continuous  marsh,  intersected  here  and 
there  by  a  few  farm-roads,  impassable  for  artillery,  without 
which  the  king's  troops  would  not  have  moved.     The  Lexing- 


244      HISTOKIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF    MIDDLESEX. 

ton  expedition  forced  its  way  through  these  marshes  with 
infinite  difficulty.  The  English  commander  might  land  his 
troops  at  Ten  Hills,  as  had  already  been  done  ;  but  to  prevent 
this  was  the  object  of  the  possession  of  Bunker  Hill.  He  was 
therefore  reduced  to  the  choice  of  the  two  great  highways  lead- 
ing into  Boston,  with  the  advantages  greatly  in  favor  of  that 
which  passed  on  the  side  of  Charlestown. 

The  advanced  post  of  the  Americans  on  old  Charlestown 
road,  which  was  meant  to  secure  the  camp  on  this  side, 
was  near  the  point  where  it  is  now  intersected  by  Beacon 
Street.  It  was  distant  about  five  eighths  of  a  mile  from  Cam- 
bridge Common.  The  road,  which  has  here  been  straightened, 
formerly  curved  towards  the  north,  crossing  the  head  of  the 
west  fork  of  Willis  Creek  (Miller's  Eiver),  by  what  was  called 
Pillon  Bridge.  The  road  also  passed  over  the  east  branch  of 
the  same  stream  near  the  present  crossing  of  the  Fitchburg 
Eailway,  where  a  mere  rivulet  appears  to  indicate  its  vicinity. 
The  works  at  Pillon  Bridge  were  on  each  side  of  the  road ;  that 
on  the  north  running  up  the  declivity  of  the  hill  now  crossed 
by  Park  Street,  and  occupying  a  commanding  site.  The  ex- 
istence of  a  watercourse  here  may  still  be  traced  in  the  vener- 
able willows  which  once  skirted  its  banks,  and  even  by  the  dry 
bed  of  the  stream  itself  The  bridge,  according  to  appearances, 
was  situated  seventy-five  or  a  hundred  yards  north  of  the  pres- 
ent point  of  junction  of  the  two  roads,  now  known  as  Wash- 
ington and  Beacon  Streets.  At  the  Cambridge  line  the  former 
takes  the  name  of  ELiikland  Street. 


CAMBKIDGE  CAMP.  245 


CHAPTER    XL 

CAMBRIDGE    CAMP. 

"  Father  and  I  went  down  to  camp 
Along  with  Captain  Gooding, 
And  there  we  see  the  men  and  boys 
As  thick  as  hasty  pudding." 

THERE  is  a  certain  historical  coincidence  in  the  fact  that 
the  armies  of  the  Parliament  in  England  and  of  the 
Congress  in  America  were  each  mustered  in  Cambridge.  Old 
Cambridge,  in  1642-43,  was  generally  for  the  king,  and  the 
University  tried  unsuccessfully  to  send  its  plate  out  of  Oliver's 
reach.  In  1775  the  wealth  and  influence  of  American  Cam- 
bridge were  also  for  the  king,  but  the  University  was  stanch 
for  the  Revolution. 

We  confess  we  should  like  to  see,  on  a  spot  so  historic  as 
Cambridge  Common,  an  equestrian  statue  to  George  Washing- 
ton, ^^  Pater,  Liberator,  Defensor  Patrice.^'  Besides  being  the 
muster-field  where  the  American  army  of  the  Revolution  had 
its  being,  it  is  consecrated  by  other  memories.  It  was  the 
place  of  arms  of  the  settlers  of  1631,  who  selected  it  for  their 
strong  fortress  and  intrenched  camp.  Within  this  field  the 
flag  of  thirteen  stripes  was  first  unfolded  to  the  air.  We  have 
already  had  occasion  to  refer  to  the  uprising  of  Middlesex  in 
1774,  when  the  crown  servitors  resident  in  Cambridge  had  their 
judicial  commissions  revoked  in  the  name  of  the  people.  It 
was  also  the  place  where  George  the  Third's  speech,  sent  out  by 
the  "  Boston  gentry,"  was  committed  to  the  flames. 

Before  reviewing  the  Continental  camp,  a  brief  retrospect  of 
the  miUtary  organization  of  the  early  colonists  will  not  be 
deemed  inappropriate.  In  the  year  1644  the  militia  was  or- 
ganized, and  the  old  soldier,  Dudley,  appointed  major-general. 
Endicott  was  the  next  incumbent  of  this  new  office ;  Gibbons, 


246      HISTORIC   FIELDS  A^D   MANSIONS   OF  MIDDLESEX. 

the  third,  had  first  commanded  the  Suffolk  regiments ;  Sedg- 
wick, the  fourth,  the  Middlesex  regiment.  After  Sedgwick 
came  Atherton,  Denison,  Leverett,  and  Gookin,  who  was  the 
last  major-general  under  the  old  charter.  These,  officers  were 
also  styled  sergeants  major-general,  a  title  borrowed  from  Old 
England.  They  were  chosen  annually  by  the  freemen,  at  the 
same  time  as  the  governor  and  assistants,  Avhile  the  other  mili- 
tary officers  held  for  life. 

Old  Edward  Johnson,  describing  the  train-bands  in  Gibbons's 
time,  says  his  forts  were  in  good  repair,  his  artillery  well 
mounted  and  cleanly  kept,  half-cannon,  culverins,  and  sakers, 
as  also  fieldpieces  of  brass,  very  ready  for  service. 

A  soldier  in  1630-40  wore  a  steel  cap  or  head-piece,  breast 
and  back  piece,  buff  coat,  bandoleer,  containing  his  powder,  and 
carried  a  matchlock.  He  was  also  armed  with  a  long  sword 
suspended  by  a  belt  from  the  shoulder.  In  the  time  of  Philip's 
War  the  Colony  forces  were  provided  witli  blunderbusses  and  also 
with  hand-grenadoes,  which  were  found  ell'ectual  in  driving  the 
Indians  from  an  ambush.  A  troop  at  this  time  numbered  sixty 
horse,  besides  the  officers',  all  well  mounted  and  completely 
armed  with  back,  breast,  head-piece,  bulf  coat,  sword,  carbine, 
and  pistols.  Each  of  the  twelve  troops  in  the  Colony  were 
distinguished  by  their  coats.  In  time  of  war  the  pay  of  a  cap- 
tain of  horse  was  £  6  per  month  ;  of  a  captain  of  foot,  <£  4  ;  of  a 
private  soldier,  one  shilling  a  day.  jMilitary  punishments  were 
severe ;  the  strapado,  or  riding  the  wooden  horse  so  as  to  bring 
the  blood,  being  commonly  inflicted  for  offences  one  grade  be- 
low the  death-penalty.  The  governor  had  the  chief  command, 
but  the  major-generals  did  not  take  the  field,  their  offices  being 
more  for  profit  than  for  fighting. 

With  improved  fire-arms,  when  battles  were  no  more  to  be 
decided  by  hand-to-hand  encounters,  armor  gradually  went  out 
of  fashion. 

"  Farewell,  then,  ancient  men  of  might  ! 
Crusader,  errant-squire,  and  knight  ! 
Our  coats  and  customs  soften  ; 
To  rise  would  only  make  you  weep  ; 
Sleep  on,  in  rusty  iron  sleep, 
As  in  a  safety  coffin." 


CAMBRIDGE   CAMP.  247 

Bayonets  as  first  used  in  England  (about  1680)  had  a 
wooden  haft,  which  was  inserted  in  the  mouth  of  the  piece, 
answering  thus  the  purpose  of  a  partisan.  The  French,  with 
whom  the  weapon  originated,  anticipated  the  EngHsh  in  fixing 
it  with  a  socket.  A  French  and  British  regiment  in  one  of  the 
wars  of  William  III.  encountered  in  Flanders,  where  this  dif- 
ference in  the  manner  of  using  the  bayonet  was  near  deciding 
the  day  in  favor  of  the  French  battalion.  This  weapon,  once 
so  important  that  the  British  infantry  made  it  their  peculiar 
boast,  is  now  seldom  used,  except  perhaps  as  a  defence  against 
cavalry.  Some  confidence  it  still  gives  to  the  soldier,  but  its 
most  important  function  in  these  days  of  long-range  small- 
arms  is  the  splendor  with  which  it  invests  the  array  of  a  bat- 
talion as  it  stands  on  parade.  We  do  not  know  of  a  com- 
mander who  would  now  order  a  bayonet-charge,  although  in 
the  early  battles  of  the  Revolution  it  often  turned  the  scale 
against  us. 

After  the  battle  of  Lexington  the  Committee  of  Safety  re- 
solved to  enhst  eight  thousand  men  for  seven  months.  A  com- 
pany was  to  consist  of  one  captain,  one  lieutenant,  one  ensign, 
four  sergeants,  a  drummer  and  fifer,  and  seventy  privates. 
Nine  companies  formed  a  regiment,  of  which  the  field-officers 
were  a  colonel,  lieutenant-colonel,  and  major.  Each  of  the 
field-officers  had  a  company  which  was  called  his  own,  as 
each  of  the  general  officers,  beginning  with  Ward  himself,  had 
his  regiment.  The  aggregate  of  the  rank  and  file  was,  two 
days  afterward,  reduced  to  fifty.  This  must  be  considered 
as  the  first  organization  of  the  army  of  the  Thirteen  Colo- 
nies, —  as  they  afterwards  adopted  it  as  their  own,  —  the  army 
which  fought  at  Bunker  Hill,  and  opened  the  trenches  around 
Boston. 

This  Common  was  the  grand  parade  of  the  army.  Here 
were  formed  every  morning,  under  supervision  of  the  Brigadier 
of  the  Day,  the  guards  for  Lechmere's  Point,  Cobble  Hill, 
White  House,  North,  South,  and  Middle  Redoubts,  Lechmere's 
Point  tete  du  pont,  and  the  main  guards  for  Winter  Hill, 
Prospect  Hill,  and  Cambridge.     Hither  were  marched  the  de- 


248       HISTORIC   FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

tachments  which  assembled  on  their  regimental  parades  at 
eight  o'clock.  Arms,  accoutrements,  and  clothing  underwent 
the  scrutiny  of  Greene,  Sullivan,  or  Heath.  This  finished, 
the  grand  guard  broke  off  into  small  bodies,  which  marched 
to  their  designated  stations  to  the  music  of  the  life  and 
drum. 

We  may  here  mention  that  the  "  ear-piercing  fife  "  was  in- 
troduced into  the  British  army  after  the  campaign  of  Flanders 
in  1748.  This  instrimient  was  first  adopted  by  the  Royal 
Regiment  of  Artillery,  the  musicians  receiving  their  instruction 
from  John  Ulricli,  a  Hanoverian  fifer,  brought  from  Flanders 
by  Colonel  Belford  when  the  allied  army  separated.  Nothing 
puts  life  into  the  soldier  like  this  noisy  little  reed.  You  shall 
see  a  band  of  weary,  footsore  men,  after  a  long  march,  fall  into 
step,  close  up  their  ranks,  and  move  on,  a  serried  phalanx,  at 
the  scream  of  the  fife. 

Fortunate  indeed  was  he  who  witnessed  this  old-fashioned 
guard-mount,  where  the  first  eftorts  to  range  in  order  the  non- 
descript battalia  must  have  filled  the  few  old  soldiers  present 
with  despair.  There  was  no  uniformity  in  weapons,  dress,  or 
equipment,  and  until  the  arrival  of  Washington  not  an  epau- 
lette in  camp.  The  officers  could  not  have  been  picked  out  of 
the  line  for  any  insignia  of  rank  or  superiority  of  attire  over 
the  common  soldiers.  Some,  perhaps,  had  been  fortunate 
enough  to  secure  a  gorget,  a  sword,  or  espontoon,  but  all  car- 
ried their  trusty  fusees.  All  that  went  to  make  up  the  outward 
pomp  of  the  soldier  was  wanting.  Compared  with  the  scarlet 
uniforms,  burnished  arms,  and  compact  files  of  the  troops  to 
whom  they  were  opposed,  our  own  poor  fellows  were  the  veriest 
ragamuffins ;  but  the  contrast  in  this  was  not  more  striking 
than  were  the  diff'erent  motives  with  which  each  combated  : 
the  Briton  fought  the  battle  of  his  king,  the  American  soldier 
his  own. 

The  curse  of  the  American  army  was  in  the  short  enlistments. 
Men  were  taken  for  two,  three,  and  six  months,  and  scarcely 
arrived  in  camp  before  they  infected  it  with  that  dangerous  dis- 
ease, homesickness.     The  same  experience  awaited  the  nation  in 


CAMBRIDGE    CAMP.  249 

the  great  civil  war.  In  truth,  if  history  is  philosophy  teaching 
by  example,  we  make  little  progress  in  forming  armies  out  of 
the  crude  material. 

If  the  Americans  were  so  contemptible  in  infantry,  they  were 
even  more  so  in  artillery,  — -  as  for  cavalry,  it  was  a  thing  as 
yet  unknown  in  an  army  in  which  many  field-officers  could  not 
obtain  a  mount.  The  enemy  was  well  supplied  with  field  and 
siege  pieces,  abundant  supplies  of  which  had  been  sent  out, 
while  the  reserves  of  the  Castle  and  fleet  were  drawn  upon 
as  circumstances  demanded.  The  unenterprising  spirit  of  the 
British  commander  rendered  all  this  disparity  much  less  alarm- 
ing than  it  would  have  been  with  a  Carleton  or  Cornwallis, 
instead  of  a  Gage  or  Howe.     An  eyewitness  relates  that 

"  The  British  appeared  so  inoffensive  that  the  Americans  enjoyed 
at  Cambridge  the  conviviality  of  the  season.  The  ladies  of  the  prin- 
cipal American  officers  repaired  to  the  camp.  Civility  and  mutual 
forbearance  appeared  between  the  officers  of  the  royal  and  conti- 
nental armies,  and  a  frequent  interchange  of  flags  was  mdulged  for 
the  gratification  of  the  different  partisans." 

The  earliest  arrangement  of  this  chrysalis  of  an  army  was 
about  as  follows.  The  regiments  were  encamped  in  tents  as 
fast  as  possible,  but  as  this  supply  soon  gave  out,  old  sails,  con- 
tributed by  the  seaport  towns,  were  issued  as  a  substitute. 
Patterson's,  Whitcomb's,  Doolittle's,  and  Gridley's  pitched  their 
tents,  and  were  soon  joined  under  canvas  by  Glover.  Mxon's 
lay  on  Charlestown  road  ;  a  part  of  the  regiment  in  Mr.  Fox- 
croft's  barn.  The  houses  were  at  first  used  chiefly  as  hospitals 
for  the  sick.  Patterson's  hospital  was  in  Andrew  Boardman's 
house,  near  his  encampment ;  Gridley's,  in  Mr.  Robshaw's. 
Sheriff  Phip's  house  was  hospital  'No.  2,  over  which  Dr.  Duns- 
more  presided.  Drs.  John  AVarren,  Isaac  Eand,  William  Eustis, 
James  Thacher,  Isaac  Foster,  and  others  officiated  in  the  hospi- 
tals, under  the  chief  direction  of  Dr.  Church.  John  Pigeon 
was  commissary-general  to  the  forces. 

We  are  able  to  give  an  exact  return  of  all  the  regiments  in 
Cambridge  on  the  10th  of  July,  1775,  with  the  number  of  men 
in  each  :  — 

II  * 


250       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 


Jonathan  Ward, 

505. 

James  Scammon, 

529. 

William  Prescott, 

487. 

Thomas  Gardner, 

334. 

Asa  Whitcomb, 

571. 

Jonathan  Brewer, 

373. 

Ephraim  Doolittle, 

351. 

B.  Ruggles  Woodbridge, 

343. 

James  Fry, 

473. 

Paul  Dudley  Sargeant, 

192. 

Richard  Gridley, 

445. 

Samuel  Gerrish, 

258. 

John  Nixon, 

482. 

John  jVIanslield, 

507. 

John  Glover, 

519. 

Edmund  Phinney, 

163. 

John  Patterson, 

492. 

Moses  Little, 

543. 

Ebenezer  Bridge, 

509. 

Two  companies  of  Bond's  and  two  of  Gerrish's  were  at  Med- 
ford.  Maiden,  and  Chelsea.  Phinney  had  only  three  companies 
in  camp.  This  seems  to  haver  been  before  the  troops  were 
arranged  in  grand  divisions  and  newly  brigaded  by  Washing- 
ton. The  aggregate  of  the  troops  in  Cambridge  presented  by 
the  above  return  was  8,076,  of  which  probably  not  many  in 
excess  of  six  thousand  were  for  duty.  Under  the  new  arrange- 
ment of  forces  Scammon's  was  ordered  to  No.  1  and  the  redoubt 
on  the  flank  of  Xo.  2,  Heath's  to  No.  2,  Patterson  to  No.  3, 
and  Prescott  to  Sewall's  Point.  On  the  10th  of  January,  1 776^ 
when  the  returns  of  the  whole  army  only  amounted  to  8,212 
men,  but  5,582  were  returned  ht  for  duty. 

Gridley  calls  for  fascines,  gabions,  pickets,  etc.,  for  the  bat- 
teries, and  makes  requisitions  for  the  service  of  a  siege-train. 
The  artillery,  such  as  it  was,  but  lately  dragged  from  places  of 
concealment,  was  without  carriages,  horses,  or  harness.  There 
were  no  intrenching  tools  except  such  as  could  be  obtained  of 
private  persons,  no  furnaces  for  casting  shot,  —  no  anything 
but  pluck  and  resolution,  and  of  that  there  was  enough  and  to 
spare. 

Armorers  were  set  to  work  repairing  the  men's  firelocks. 
Knox,  Burbeck,  Crane,  Mason,  and  Crafts  mounted  the  artil- 
lery. Sailmakers  were  employed  making  tents,  carpenters  to 
build  barracks,  and  shoemakers  and  tailors  as  fast  as  they 
could  be  obtained,  —  the  former  in  making  shoes,  cartouch- 
boxes,  etc.,  the  latter  in  clothing  the  soldiers.  Shipwrights 
were  building  bateaux  on  the  river.     In  this  condition  of  ac- 


CAMBRIDGE    CAMP.  251 

tivity  and  chaos  WashingtDii  found  his  army,  and  reaHzed,  per- 
haps for  the  first  time,  the  magnitude  of  the  work  before  him. 
From  the  Mystic  to  the  Charles  and  from  the  Charles  to  the 
sea  the  air  echoed  to  the  sound  of  the  hammer  or  the  blows  of 
the  axe,  the  crash  of  falling  trees  or  the  word  of  command. 
Another  Carthage  might  have  been  rebuilding  by  another 
Ca3sar,  and  the  ground  trembled  beneath  the  tread  of  armed 
men. 

Imagine  such  an  army,  without  artillery  or  effective  small- 
arms,  without  magazines  or  discipline,  and  unable  to  execute 
the  smallest  tactical  manoeuvre  should  their  lines  be  forced  at 
any  point,  laying  siege  to  a  town  containing  ten  thousand 
troops,  the  first  in  the  world.  It  was,  moreover,  without  a  flag 
or  a  commander  having  absolute  authority  until  Washington 
came. 

Picture  to  yourself  a  grimy  figure  behind  a  rank  of  gabions, 
liis  head  wrapped  in  an  old  bandanna,  a  short  pipe  between  his 
teeth,  stripped  of  his  upper  garments,  his  lower  limbs  encased 
in  leather  breeches,  yarn  stockings,  and  hob-nailed  shoes,  indus- 
triously plying  mattock  or  spade,  and  your  provincial  soldier 
of  '75  stands  before  you.  Multiply  him  by  ten  thousand,  and 
you  have  the  provincial  army. 

It  is  certain  that  no  common  flag  had  been  adopted  by  any 
authority  up  to  February,  1776,  though  the  flag  of  thirteen 
stripes  had  been  displayed  in  January.  The  following  extract 
from  a  regimental  order  book  will  answer  the  oft-repeated  in- 
quiry as  to  whether  the  contingents  from  the  different  Colonies 
fought  under  the  same  flag  in  1775  : 

"Head  Quarters  20th  February  1776. 
"  Parole  Manchester  :  Countersign  Boyle. 

"  As  it  is  necessary  that  every  regiment  should  be  furnished  with 
colours  and  that  those  colours  bear  some  kind  of  similitude  to  the 
regiment  to  which  they  belong,  the  colonels  with  their  respective 
Brigadiers  and  with  the  Q.  M.  G.  may  fix  upon  any  such  as  are 
proper  and  can  be  procured.  There  must  be  for  each  regiment  the 
standard  for  regimental  colours  and  colours  for  each  grand  division, 
the  whole  to  be  small  and  light.     The  number  of  the  regiment  is  to 


252       HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

be  marked  on  the  colours  and  such  a  motto  as  the  colonels  may 
choose,  in  fixing  upon  which  the  general  advises  a  consultation 
among  them.  The  colonels  are  to  delay  no  time  in  getting  the  mat- 
ter fix'd  that  the  Q.  M.  General  may  provide  the  colours  for  them  as 
soon  as  possible.  G?  Washington." 

AVashington's  first  requisition  on  arriving  in  camp  was  for 
one  hundred  axes  and  bunting  for  colors.  At  the  battle  of 
Long  Island,  fought  August,  1776,  a  regimental  color  of  red 
damask,  having  only  the  word  "Liberty"  on  the  field,  was 
captured  by  the  British.  As  late  as  Monmouth  there  w^ere  no 
distinctive  colors. 

The  whipping-post,  where  minor  offences  against  military  law 
were  expiated,  was  to  be  met  with  in  every  camp.  The  pi^son- 
ers  received  the  sentence  of  the  court-martial  on  their  naked 
backs;  from  twenty  to  forty  lashes  (the  limit  of  the  Jewish 
law)  with  a  cat-o'-nine-tails  being  the  usual  punishment.  This 
barbarous  custom,  inherited  from  the  English  service,  was  long 
retained  in  the  American  army.  Its  disuse  in  the  navy  is  too 
recent  to  need  special  mention.  Incorrigible  offenders  were 
drummed  out  of  camp  ;  but  though  there  are  instances  of  the 
death-penalty  having  been  adjudged  by  courts-martial,  there  is 
not  a  recorded  case  of  military  execution  in  the  American  army 
during  the  whole  siege. 

The  men  in  general  were  healthy,  —  much  more  so  in  Rox- 
bury  than  in  Cambridge,  and  Thomas  had  the  credit  of  keep- 
ing his  camps  in  excellent  order.  In  July,  1776,  a  company 
of  ship  carpenters  was  raised  and  sent  to  General  Schuyler  at 
Albany  for  service  on  the  lakes.  A  company  of  bread-bakers 
Avas  another  feature  of  our  camp. 

The  troops  did  not  pile  or  stack  their  arms.  They  had  few 
bayonets.  The  custom  was  to  rest  the  guns  upon  wooden 
horses  made  for  the  purpose.  In  wet  weather  they  were  taken 
into  the  tents  or  quarters.  We  have  dwelt  upon  details  that 
may  appear  trivial,  unless  the  reconstruction  of  the  Continental 
camps,  with  fidelity  in  all  things,  and  dedicated  in  all  honor  to 
the  patriot  army,  be  our  sufficient  warrant. 

Pope  Day,  the  anniversary  of  Guy  Fawkes's  abortive  plot 


CAMBKlD(;p]    CAMP.  253 

(November  5,  1605),  had  loug  been  observed  in  the  Colonies. 
It  was  proposed  to  celebrate  it  in  the  American  camp  on  the 
return  of  the  day  in  1775,  but  General  Washington  character- 
ized it  as  a  ridiculous  and  childish  custom,  and  expressed  his 
surprise  that  there  should  be  officers  and  men  in  the  army  so 
void  of  common-sense  as  not  to  see  its  impropriety  at  a  time 
when  the  Colonies  were  endeavoring  to  bring  Canada  into 
an  alliance  with  themselves  against  the  common  enemy.  The 
General  argued  that  the  Canadians,  who  were  largely  Catholic, 
would  feel  their  religion  insulted.  The  British,  on  the  con- 
trary, celebrated  the  day  with  salvos  of  artillery.  As  the  crisis 
of  the  siege  approached,  Washington  sternly  forbade  all  games 
of  chance. 

The  glorious  evening  in  June  came,  when  the  dark  clusters 
of  men  gathered  on  the  greensward  for  Breed's  Hill.  Silently 
they  stood  while  Dr.  Langdon  knelt  on  the  threshold  of  yonder 
house  and  prayed  for  their  good  speed.  The  men  tighten  their 
belts  and  feel  if  their  flints  are  firmly  fixed.  Their  faces  we 
cannot  see,  but  we  warrant  their  teeth  are  shut  hard,  and  a 
strange  light,  the  gleam  of  battle,  is  in  their  eyes.  A  nocturnal 
march,  with  conflict  at  the  end  of  it,  will  try  the  nerves  of  the 
stoutest  soldier.  What  will  it  then  do  for  men  who  have  yet 
to  fire  a  shot  in  anger  "i  They  whisper  together,  and  we  know 
what  they  say,  — 

"To-morrow,  comrade,  we 
On  the  battle  plain  must  be, 
There  to  conquer  or  both  lie  low  !  " 

Some  one  who  has  fairly  judged  of  the  raw  recruit  in  general 
doubts  if  the  Americans  reserved  their  fire  at  Bunker  Hill. 
The  answer  is  conclusive.  As  the  enemy  marched  to  the  attack 
a  fcAV  scattering  shots  were  fired  at  them,  soon  checked  by  the 
leaders.  This  is  the  testimony  of  both  sides,  and  is,  in  this 
case,  perhaps,  exceptional.  But  the  best  answer  is  in  the 
enemy's  frightful  list  of  casualties,  —  a  thousand  and  more 
men  are  not  placed  hors  dn  comhat  in  less  than  two  hours  by 
indiscriminate  popping. 

The  first  attempts  at  uniforming  the  Continentals  were  any- 


254      HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

thing  but  successful,  the  absence  of  cloth,  except  the  homespun 
of  the  country,  rendering  it  impracticable.  Chester's  company, 
which  was  clothed  in  blue  turned  up  with  red,  is  the  only  one 
in  uniform  at  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill  of  which  we  have  any 
account.  In  Edmund  Phinney's  regiment,  stationed  in  Boston 
after  the  departure  of  the  EngHsh,  the  men  were  supplied  with 
coats  and  double-breasted  jackets  of  undyed  cloth,  just  as  it 
came  from  the  looms,  turned  up  with  butf  facings.  They  had 
also  blue  breeches,  felt  hats  with  narrow  brims  and  white  bind- 
ing. Another  regiment,  being  raised  in  the  same  town,  wore 
black  faced  with  red.  The  motto  on  the  button  was,  "  Inimica 
Tyrannis"  above  a  hand  with  a  naked  sword.  During  this 
year  (1776)  homespun  or  other  coats,  brown  or  any  other  color, 
made  large  and  full-lapelled,  with  ftxcmgs  of  the  same  or  of 
white,  cloth  jackets  without  sleeves,  cloth  or  leather  breeches, 
large  felt  hats,  and  yarn  stockings  of  all  colors,  were  purchased 
by  the  Continental  agents.  Smallwood's  Maryland  regiment 
was  clothed  in  red,  but  Washington  eventually  prohibited  this 
color,  for  obvious  reasons.  In  November,  1776,  Paul  Jones 
captured  an  armed  vessel,  which  had  on  board  ten  thousand 
complete  sets  of  uniform,  destined  for  the  troops  in  Canada 
under  Carleton  and  Burgoyne.  The  American  levies  in  the 
British  service  were  first  attired  in  green,  which  they  finally 
and  with  heavy  hearts  exchanged  for  red,  as  a  prelude  to  their 
being  drafted  into  British  regiments. 

The  term  "  Continent "  was  applied  to  the  thirteen  Colonies 
early  in  1776,  to  distinguish  their  government  from  that  of 
the  Provinces,  and  hence  the  name  Continental,  as  apphed  to 
the  army  of  their  adoption. 

The  surroundings  of  Cambridge  Common  invite  our  attention, 
and  of  these  the  old  gambrel-roof  house,  situated  between  Kirk- 
land  Street  and  Xorth  Avenue,  naturally  claims  precedence. 
To  the  present  generation  this  is  known  as  the  birthplace  of 
our  Autocrat  of  the  Breakfast-table,  our  songster  in  many  keys, 
ever  welcome  in  any  guise,  whether  humorous,  pathetic,  or 
even  a  little  satirical  withal.  It  was  a  good  house  to  be  born 
in,  and  does  honor  to  the   poet's  choice,  as  his  bouquet  of 


WENDELL. 


CAMBRIDGE   CAMP.  255 

fragrant  memories,  culled  for  the  readers  of  the  "  Atlantic," 
does  honor  to  the  poet's  self.  It  is  certainly  no  disadvantage 
to  have  hrst  drawn  breath  in  a  house  which 
was  the  original  headquarters  of  the  Ameri- 
can army  of  the  lievolution,  and  in  which 
the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill  was  planned  and 
ordered.  The  old  house  is  pleasant  to  look 
at,  though  built  originally  for  nothing  more 
pretending  than  a  farm-house.  It  has  a 
thorouglily  sturdy  and  honest  look,  like  its 
old  neighbor,  the  President's  house,  and  in 
nothing  except  its  yellow  and  white  paint 
does  it  seem  to  counterfeit  the  royalist  man- 
sions of  Tory  Eow.  The  Professor  tells  us  it  once  had  a  row 
of  Lombardy  poplars  on  the  west,  but  now  not  a  single  speci- 
men of  the  tree  can  be  found  of  the  many  that  once  stood 
stiffly  up  at  intervals  around  the  Common.  The  building 
fronts  the  south,  with  the  College  edifices  of  its  own  time 
drawn  up  in  ugly  array  before  it.  Beyond,  in  unobstructed 
view,  are  the  Square,  the  church  with  its  lofty  steejDle,  and  its 
Anglican  neighbor  of  the  lowlier  tower,  where,  — 

"  Like  sentinel  and  nun  they  keep 
Their  vigil  on  the  green  ; 
One  seems  to  guard  and  one  to  weep 
The  dead  that  lie  between. " 

The  west  windows  look  upon  the  Common,  with  its  beautiful 
monument  in  its  midst,  and  bordered  by  other  houses  wdth 
walls  as  familiar  to  the  scenes  of  a  hundred  years  ago  as  are 
those  of  our  present  subject.  Were  we  to  indulge  our  fancy, 
we  might  as  easily  invest  these  old  houses  with  the  gift  of 
vision  through  their  many  glassy  eyes,  as  to  give  ears  to  their 
walls  ;  we  might  imagine  their  looks  of  recognition,  doubtful  of 
their  own  identity,  amid  the  changes  which  time  has  wrought 
in  their  vicinage. 

It  is  at  least  a  singular  chance  that  fixed  the  homes  of  Long- 
fellow, Holmes,  Lowell,  Hawthorne,  and  Everett  in  houses  of 
greater  or  less  historic  celebrity ;  but  it  is  not  merely  a  coinci- 


256       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

dence  that  lias  given  these  authors  a  decided  preference  for  his- 
torical subjects.  All  are  students  of  history ;  all  either  are  or 
have  been  valued  members  of  our  historical  societies.  Evan- 
geline, The  Scarlet  Letter,  and  Old  Ironsides  are  pledges  that 
the  more  striking  subjects  have  not  escaped  them. 

In  the  roU  of  proprietors  of  the  old  gambrel-roof  house,  which 
Dr.  Holmes  supposes  to  be  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  years 
old,  but  which  we  should  judge  even  more  ancient,  the  first  to 
appear  is  Jabez  Fox,  described  as  a  tailor,  of  Boston,  to  whom 
the  estate  was  allotted  in  1707,  and  whose  heirs  sold  it  to 
Farmer  Jonathan  Hastings  thirty  years  later,  with  the  four 
acres  of  land  pertaining  to  the  messuage. 

The  first  Jonathan  Hastings  is  the  same  to  whom  Gordon 
attributes  the  origin  of  the  word  "  yankee."     He  says  :  — 

"  It  was  a  cant,  favorite  word  with  Farmer  Jonathan  Hastings  of 
Cambridge  about  1713.  Two  aged  ministers  who  were  at  the  College 
in  that  town  have  told  me  they  rememliered  it  to  have  been  then 
in  use  among  the  students,  but  had  no  recollection  of  it  before  that 
period.  The  inventor  used  it  to  express  excellency.  A  Yankee 
good  horse,  or  Yankee  good  cider,  and  the  like,  were  an  excellent 
good  horse  and  excellent  cider.  The  students  used  to  hire  horses  of 
him,  and  the  use  of  the  term  upon  all  occasions  led  them  to  adopt 
it,  and  they  gave  him  the  name  of  Yankee  Jon." 

Gordon  supposes  that  the  students,  upon  leaving  College, 
circulated  the  name  through  the  country,  as  the  phrase  "  Hob- 
son's  choice  "  was  established  by  the  students  at  Cambridge,  in 
Old  England,  though  the  latter  derivation  is  disputed  by  Mr. 
Ker,  who  calls  it  "  a  Cambridge  hoax." 

The  second  Jonathan  Hastings,  long  the  College  Steward, 
was  born  in  1708,  graduated  at  Harvard  in  1730,  and  died  in 
1783,  aged  seventy-five.  It  was  during  his  occupancy  that  the 
house  acquired  its  paramount  importance.  He  was  appointed 
postmaster  of  Cambridge  in  July,  1775,  as  the  successor  of 
James  Winthrop  ;  and  his  son  Jonathan,  who  graduated  at 
Harvard  in  1768,  was  afterwards  postmaster  of  Boston.  Walter 
Hastings,  also  of  this  family,  was  a  surgeon  of  the  27th  regi- 
ment of  foot  (American),  from  Chelmsford,  at  the  battle  of 


CAMBRIDGE   CAMP.  257 

Bunker  Hill,  and  rendered  efficient  service  there.  "Walter 
Hastings,  of  Boston,  has  a  pair  of  gold  sleeve-buttons  worn  by 
his  grandsire  on  that  day.  His  father,  Walter  Hastings,  com- 
manded Fort  Warren,  now  Fort  Winthrop,  in  1812. 

As  early  as  April  24,  1775,  and  perhaps  immediately  after 
the  battle  of  Lexington,  the  Committee  of  Safety  established 
themselves  in  this  house,  and  here  were  concerted  all  those 
measures  for  the  organization  of  the  army  created  by  the  Provin- 
cial Congress.  It  was  here  Captain  Benedict  Arnold  reported 
on  the  29th  of  April  with  a  company  from  Connecticut,  and 
made  the  proposal  for  the  attempt  on  Ticonderoga,  prompted 
by  his  daring  disposition.  It  was,  without  doubt,  in  the  right- 
hand  room,  on  the  lower  floor,  that  Arnold  received  his  first 
commission  as  colonel  from  the  Committee,  May  3,  1775,  and 
his  orders  to  raise  a  force  and  seize  the  strong  places  on  the 
lakes.  Thus  Massachusetts  has  the  dubious  honor  of  having 
first  commissioned  this  eminent  traitor,  whose  authority  was 
signed  by  another  traitor,  Benjamin  Church,  but  whose  treason 
was  not  then  developed. 

"  'T  is  here  but  yet  confused  : 
Knavery's  plain  face  is  never  seen  till  used." 

Arnold  was  the  first  to  give  information  in  relation  to  the 
number  and  calibre  of  the  armament  at  Ticonderoga. 

As  all  that  relates  to  this  somewhat  too  celebrated  personage 
has  a  certain  interest,  we  give  the  substance  of  a  private  letter 
from  a  gentleman  who  was  in  Europe  when  General  Arnold 
arrived  there,  and  whose  acquaintance  in  diplomatic  circles 
placed  him  in  a  position  to  be  well  informed. 

The  revolution  in  England  respecting  the  change  of  ministry 
was  very  sudden,  and  supposed  to  have  been  influenced  by  the 
honest  representations  of  Lord  Cornwallis  relative  to  the  im- 
practicability of  reducing  America,  which  rendered  that  gen- 
tleman not  so  welcome  in  England  to  the  late  Ministry  as  his 
brother-passenger.  General  Arnold,  who,  from  encouraging  in- 
formation in  favor  of  the  conquest  of  America,  was  received 
with  open  arms  by  the  king,  caressed  by  the  ministers,  and 

Q 


258       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

all  imaginable  attention  showed  him  by  all  people  on  that  side 
of  the  question.  He  was  introduced  to  the  king  in  town,  with 
whom  he  had  the  honor  of  many  private  conferences  ;  and  was 
seen  walking  with  the  Prince  of  Wales  and  the  king's  brother 
in  the  public  gardens.  The  queen  was  so  interested  in  favor 
of  Mrs.  Arnold  as  to  desire  the  ladies  of  the  court  to  pay  much 
attention  to  her.  On  the  other  hand,  the  pajDers  daily  con- 
tained such  severe  strokes  at  Arnold  as  would  have  made 
any  other  man  despise  himself;  and  the  then  opposition,  after- 
wards in  power,  had  so  little  regard  for  him,  that  one  day, 
he  being  in  the  lobby  of  the  House  of  Commons,  a  motion 
was  about  to  be  made  to  have  it  cleared  in  order  to  get  him 
out  of  it,  but  upon  the  member  (the  Earl  of  Surrey)  being 
assured  that  he  would  not  appear  there  again,  the  motion  was 
not  made. 

The  name  of  the  corporal  who  with  eight  privates  constituted 
the  crew  of  the  barge  in  which  Arnold  made  his  escape  from 
West  Point  to  the  Vulture,  was  James  Lurvey,  of  Colonel 
Rufus  Putnam's  regiment.  He  is  believed  to  have  come  from 
Worcester  County.  Arnold  meanly  endeavored  to  seduce  the 
corporal  from  his  flag  by  the  offer  of  a  commission  in  the  Brit- 
ish service,  but  the  honest  fellow  replied,  "  No,  sir ;  one  coat  is 
enough  for  me  to  wear  at  a  time." 

This  mansion  was  probably  occupied  by  General  Ward  at  a 
time  not  far  from  coincident  with  its  possession  by  the  Commit- 
tee of  Safety,  but  of  this  there  is  no  other  evidence  than  that 
his  frequent  consultations  with  that  body  would  seem  to  render 
it  necessary.  He  received  his  commission  as  commander-in- 
chief  of  the  Massachusetts  forces  on  the  20th  of  May,  1775,  at 
which  time  headquarters  were  unquestionably  established  here. 
It  must  be  borne  in  mind,  however,  that  the  committee  exer- 
cised the  supreme  authority  of  directing  all  military  movements, 
and  that  General  Ward  was  a  subordinate. 

The  fact  that  this  was  the  Provincial  headquarters  has  been 
doubtfully  stated  from  time  to  time,  but  is  settled  by  the  fol- 
lowing extract  from  the  Provincial  records,  dated  June  21, 
1775:  — 


CAMBRIDGE   CAMP.  259 

"  Whereas,  a  great  number  of  horses  have  been,  from  time  to 
time,  put  into  the  stables  and  yard  of  Mr.  Hastings,  at  headquarters, 
not  belonging  to  the  Colony,  the  Committee  of  Safety,  or  the  gen- 
eral officers,  their  aids-de-camp,  or  post-riders,  to  the  great  expense 
of  the  public  and  inconvenience  of  the  committee,  generals,  &c." 

General  Ward's  principal  motive  for  quitting  the  army  was  a 
painful  disease,  which  prevented  his  mounting  his  horse.  His 
personal  intrepidity  and  resolution  are  well  illustrated  by  the 
following  incident  of  Shays's  Eebellion. 

The  General  was  then  chief  justice  of  the  court  to  be  held  in 
Worcester,  September,  1786.  On  the  morning  the  court  was  to 
open,  the  Eegulators,  under  Adam  Wheeler,  were  in  possession 
of  the  Court  House.  The  judges  had  assembled  at  the  house 
ol  Hon.  Joseph  Allen.  At  the  usual  hour  they,  together  with 
the  justices  of  the  sessions  and  members  of  the  bar,  moved  in 
procession  to  the  Court  House. 

A  sentinel  challenged  the  advance  of  the  procession,  bringing 
his  musket  to  the  charge.  General  Ward  sternly  ordered  him 
to  recover  his  piece.  The  man,  an  old  soldier  of  Ward's  own 
regiment,  awed  by  his  manner,  obeyed.  Passing  through  the 
multitude,  which  gave  way  in  sullen  silence,  the  cortege  reached 
the  Court  House  steps,  where  were  stationed  a  file  of  men  mth 
fixed  bayonets,  Wheeler,  with  a  drawn  sword,  being  in  front. 

The  crier  was  allowed  to  open  the  doors,  which,  being  done, 
displayed  another  party  of  infantry  with  loaded  muskets,  as  if 
ready  to  fire.  Judge  Ward  then  advanced  alone,  and  the  bayo- 
nets were  presented  at  his  breast.  He  demanded,  repeatedly, 
who  commanded  the  people  there,  and  the  object  of  these  hos- 
tile acts.  Wheeler  at  length  replied  that  they  had  met  to 
prevent  the  sitting  of  the  courts  until  they  could  obtain  redress 
of  grievances.  The  judge  then  desired  to  address  the  people, 
but  the  leaders,  who  feared  the  effect  upon  their  followers,  re- 
fused to  permit  him  to  be  heard.  The  drums  beat  and  the 
guard  were  ordered  to  charge.  ''  The  soldiers  advanced  until 
the  points  of  their  bayonets  pressed  hard  upon  the  breast  of  the 
chief  justice,  who  stood  immovable  as  a  statue,  without  stirring 
a  limb  or  yielding  an  inch,  although  the  steel,  in  the  hands  of 


260       HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

desperate  men,  penetrated  bis  dress.  Struck  with  admiration 
by  his  intrepidity,  the  guns  were  removed,  and  Judge  Ward, 
ascending  the  steps,  addressed  tlie  assembly." 

"  Says  sober  Will,  well  Sliays  has  fled, 
And  peace  returned  to  bless  our  days. 
Indeed,  cries  Ned,  I  always  said, 
He  'd  prove  at  last  Sifall  hack  Shays." 

When  the  army  first  assembled  under  AVard,  officers  were 
frequently  stopped  by  sentinels  for  want  of  any  distinguishing 
badge  of  rank.  This  led  to  an  order  that  they  should  wear 
ribbons  across  the  breast,  —  red  for  the  highest  grade,  blue  for 
colonels,  and  other  colors  according  to  rank. 

It  is  well  known  that  Washington  spoke  of  the  resignation 
of  General  Ward,  after  the  evacuation  of  Boston,  in  a  manner 
approaching  contempt.  His  observations,  then  confidentially 
made,  about  some  of  the  other  generals,  were  not  calculated  to 
flatter  their  amour  jwopre  or  that  of  their  descendants.  It  is 
said  that  General  Ward,  learning  long  afterwards  the  remark 
that  had  been  applied  to  him,  accompanied  by  a  friend,  waited 
on  his  old  chief  at  New  York,  and  asked  him  if  it  was  true  that 
he  had  used  such  language.  The  President  replied  that  he  did 
not  know,  but  that  he  kept  copies  of  all  his  letters,  and  would 
take  an  early  opportunity  of  examining  them.  Accordingly,  at 
the  next  session  of  Congress  (of  which  General  Ward  was  a 
member),  he  again  called  with  his  friend,  and  was  informed  by 
the  President  that  he  had  really  written  as  alleged.  Ward  then 
said,  "  Sir,  you  are  no  ge)itleman,''  and  turning  on  his  heel 
quitted  the  room. 

It  is  certain  that  the  seizure  of  Dorchester  Heights  was  re- 
solved upon  early  in  May,  1775,  or  nearly  a  year  before  it  was 
finally  done  by  Washington.  Information  conveyed  to  tlie 
besiegers  from  Boston  made  it  evident  that  the  enemy  were 
meditating  a  movement,  which  we  now  know  from  General 
Burgoyne  was  to  have  been  first  directed  upon  the  heights  of 
Dorchester,  and  secondly  upon  CharlestoAvn. 

On  the  9th  of  May,  at  a  council  of  war  at  headquarters,  the 
question  proposed  whether  such  part  of  the  militia  should  be 


CAMBRIDGE    CAMP.  261 

called  in  to  join  the  forces  at  Eoxbuiy  as  would  be  sufficient 
to  enable  them  to  take  j^ossession  of  and  defend  Dorchester  Hill, 
as  well  as  to  maintain  the  camp  at  Roxbury,  was  passed  unani- 
mously in  the  affirmative.  Samuel  Osgood,  Ward's  major  of 
brigade,  signed  the  record  of  the  vote.  On  the  10th  of  May 
an  order  was  sent  to  all  the  colonels  of  the  army  to  repair  to 
the  town  of  Cambridge,  —  "as  we  are  meditating  a  blow  at 
our  restless  enemies,"  —  the  general  officers  were  directed  to 
call  in  all  the  enlisted  men,  and  none  were  allowed  to  depart 
the  camps  till  the  further  orders  of  Congress. 

For  some  reason  the  enterprise  was  abandoned,  but  it  shows 
that  both  belligerents  were  fully  conscious  from  the  first  that 
the  heights  of  Dorchester  and  Charlestown  were  the  keys  to 
Boston.  Burgoyne  says  the  descent  on  Dorchester  was  finally 
to  have  been  executed  on  the  18  th  of  June,  and  gives  the  par- 
ticulars of  the  plan  of  operations,  —  a  scheme  which  the  in- 
trenchment  on  the  heights  of  Charlestown  rendered  abortive. 

The  next  whose  personality  is  involved  with  the  old  house 
is  Joseph  Warren.  The  account  preserved  in  the  Hastings 
family  is,  that  the  patriot  President-general  was  much  pleased 
with  Rebecca  Hastings,  who  was  then  residing  with  her  father, 
the  College  steward.  The  previous  day  the  General  had  pre- 
sided at  the  deliberations  of  the  Congress  at  AVatertown,  where 
he  passed  the  night,  coming  down  to  Cambridge  in  the  morning. 
His  steps  tended  most  naturally  to  the  old  house  where  were 
his  associates  of  the  Committee,  and  the  commanding  general. 
There  was  perhaps  a  fair  face  at  the  window  welcoming  him 
with  a  smile  as  he,  for  the  last  time,  drew  up  before  the  gate 
and  alighted  from  his  chaise. 

Warren,  risen  from  a  sick-bed,  to  which  overwork  and  mental 
anxiety  had  consigned  him,  dressed  himself  with  more  than 
ordinary  care,  and,  silencing  the  remonstrances  of  his  more 
cautious  colleague,  Elbridge  Gerry,  proceeded  to  the  scene  of 
action  at  Bunker  Hill  on  foot. 

The  old  farm-house  is  not  yet  to  lose  its  claim  as  a  visible 
memorial  of  the  varying  destinies  through  which  our  country 
passed.     Washington  made  it  his  headquarters  upon  his  arrival 


262       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

at  camp,  remaining  in  it  three  days,  or  until  arrangements  for 
his  permanent  residence  could  be  made.  He  first  dined  at 
Cambridge  with  General  Ward  and  his  officers,  —  an  occasion 
when  all  restraint  appears  to  have  been  cast  aside  in  the  sponta- 
neous welcome  which  was  extended  him.  After  dinner  Adjutant 
Gibbs,  of  Glover's,  was  hoisted  (English  fashion),  chair  and  all, 
upon  the  table,  and  gave  the  company  a  rollicking  bachelor's 
song,  calculated  to  make  the  immobile  features  of  the  chief 
relax.  It  was  a  generous,  hearty  greeting  of  comrades  in  arms. 
Glasses  clinked,  stories  were  told,  and  the  wine  circulated. 
Washington  was  a  man  ;  we  do  not  question  that  he  laughed, 
talked,  and  toasted  with  the  rest. 

The  headquarters  being  here  already,  it  was  natural  for  the 
General  to  choose  to  remain  for  the  present  where  the  archives, 
staff,  and  auxiliary  machinery  enabled  him  to  examine  the 
condition  and  resources  of  the  army  he  came  to  command. 
Consultations  with  General  Ward  were  necessarily  frequent. 
It  was  no  doubt  in  this  house  Washington  penned  his  first 
official  despatches. 

Eliphalet  Pearson,  Professor  of  Hebrew  and  Oriental  lan- 
guages, became  the  next  inhabitant  after  what  may  be  called 
the  Restoration,  when  the  sway  of  warlike  men  gave  place 
on  classic  ground  to  the  old  reign  of  letters.  Professor 
Pearson  was  noted  for  the  sternness  of  his  orthodoxy,  as  ex- 
hibited in  his  resistance  to  the  entrance  of  Rev.  Henry  Ware 
into  the  Hollis  professorship,  and  for  his  opposition  to  Andrew 
Craigie's  efforts  to  secure  a  charter  for  his  bridge,  —  efforts 
exerted  in  both  instances  for  the  behoof  of  the  College,  though 
in  widely  different  spheres  of  action. 

Following  him  came  Rev.  Abiel  Holmes,  pastor  of  the  First 
Church,  early  historian  of  Cambridge,  whose  ministry  was 
suspended  by  a  revolution  in  his  parish,  which  resulted  in 
the  overthi'ow  of  the  old  and  the  elevation  of  the  new.  Dr. 
Holmes's  widow,  the  daughter  of  Judge  Oliver  Wendell,  con- 
tinued to  live  in  the  house  some  time  after  the  decease  of  her 
husband  in  1837.  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes,  their  son,  did  not 
permanently  reside  in  the  old  house  after  he  left  college. 


CAMBRIDGE   CAMP.  263 

The  lines  to  Old  Ironsides,  to  which  allusion  has  been  made, 
were  composed  in  this  old  house  when  tlie  poet  was  twenty 
years  old.  They  were  written  in  pencil,  and  hrst  printed  in 
the  "  Boston  Daily  Advertiser."  Genuine  wrath  at  the  pro- 
posed breaking  up  of  the  old  frigate  impelled  the  young  poet's 
burning  lines  :  — 

"  And  one  who  listened  to  the  tale  of  shame, 
Whose  heart  still  answered  to  that  sacred  name, 
Whose  eye  still  followed  o'er  his  country's  tides 
Thy  glorious  flag,  our  brave  Old  Ironsides  ! 
From  yon  lone  attic  on  a  summer's  morn. 
Thus  mocked  the  spoilers  with  his  school-boy  scorn." 


264       HISTOEIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

CAMBRIDGE  COMMON  AND  LANDMARKS. 

"The  country  of  our  fathers  !  May  its  spirit  keep  it  safe  and  its  justice 
keep  it  free  !  " 

PURSUING  our  circuit  of  the  Common,  "  on  hospitable 
thoughts  intent,"  we  ought  briefly  to  pause  before  the 
whilom  abode  of  Dr.  Benjamin  Waterhouse.  This  house  may 
justly  claim  to  be  one  of  the  most  ancient  now  remaining  in 
Cambridge,  having  about  it  the  marks  of  great  age.  The  strong 
family  resemblance  which  the  dwellings  of  the  period  to  which 
this  belongs  bear  to  each  other  renders  a  minute  description  of 
an  individual  specimen  applicable  to  the  greater  number. 

Here  are  still  some  relics  of  the  "  American  Jenner,"  and 
some  that  belonged  to  an  even  older  inhabitant  than  he.  In 
one  apartment  is  a  clock  surmounted  by  the  symbolic  cow.  At 
the  head  of  the  staircase,  in  an  upper  hall,  is  another  clock, 
with  an  inscription  which  shows  it  to  have  been  presented,  in 
1790,  to  Dr.  Waterhouse,  by  Peter  Oliver,  former  chief  justice 
of  the  province.  The  old  timekeeper  requests  its  possessor  to 
wind  it  on  Christmas  and  on  the  4th  of  July.  There  is  also  a 
crayon  portrait  of  the  Doctor's  mother,  done  by  Allston  when 
an  undergraduate  at  Harvard.  The  features  of  Heiuy  Ware, 
another  inhabitant  of  the  house,  look  benignly  down  from  a 
canvas  on  the  wall.  Some  other  articles  may  have  belonged  to 
William  Yassall,  who  owned  and  occupied  the  house;  probably 
as  a  summer  residence,  before  the  war.  Still  another  occupant 
was  the  Rev.  Winwood  Serjeant,  rector  of  Christ  Church. 

Dr.  Waterhouse  is  best  remembered  through  his  labors  to 
introduce  in  this  country  vaccination,  the  discovery  of  Jenner, 
which  encountered  as  large  a  share  of  ridicule  and  opposition  as 
inoculation  had  formerly  experienced.  Several  persons  are 
still  living  who  were  vaccinated  by  Dr.  Waterhouse. 


CAMBRIDGE  COMMON  AND  LANDMARKS.      265 

At  one  time  the  old  "barracks  at  Sewall's  Point  (Brookline) 
were  used  as  a  small-pox  hospital.  This  was  in  the  day  of 
inoculation,  when  it  was  the  fashion  to  send  to  a  friend  such 
missives  as  the  following  :  — 

"  I  wish  Lucy  was  here  to  have  the  small-pox.  I  wish  you  would 
persuade  her  to  come  here  and  have  it.  You  can't  think  how  light 
they  have  it." 

The  visitor  will  find  some  relics  of  the  siege,  at  the  State 
Arsenal  on  Garden  Street,  in  several  pieces  of  artillery  mounted 
on  sea-coast  carriages  and  arranged  within  the  enclosure.  These 
guns  were  left  in  Boston  by  Sir  William  Howe,  and,  thanks  to 
the  care  of  General  Stone,  when  that  gentleman  was  adjutant- 
general  of  the  State,  were  preserved  from  the  sale  of  a  number 
of  similar  trophies  as  old  iron.  As  the  disappearance  of  the 
arsenal  may  soon  be  expected,  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  State 
of  Massachusetts  can  afford  to  keep  these  old  war-dogs  which 
bear  the  crest  and  cipher  of  Queen  Anne  and  the  Second 
George.  The  largest  of  the  cannon  is  a  32-pounder.  All 
have  the  broad  arrow,  but  rust  and  weather  have  nearly 
obliterated  the  inscriptions  impressed  at  the  royal  foundry. 
The  oldest  legible  date  is  1687.  Besides  these,  are  two  di- 
minutive mortars  or  cohorns.  Within  one  of  the  houses  are 
two  beautiful  brass  field-pieces,  bearing  the  crown  and  lilies  of 
France.  Each  has  its  name  on  the  muzzle,  —  one  being  the 
Venus  and  the  other  Le  Faucon,  —  and  on  the  breech  the 
imprint  of  the  royal  arsenal  of  Strasburg,  with  the  dates 
respectively  of  1760  and  1761.  A  further  search  revealed, 
hidden  away  in  an  obscure  corner  and  covered  with  lumber, 
a  Spanish  piece,  which,  when  brought  to  light  by  the  aid  of 
some  workmen,  was  found  literally  covered  with  engraving, 
beautifully  executed,  deHneating  the  Spanish  Crown  and  the 
monogram  of  Carlos  III.     It  is  inscribed,  — 

"El  Uenado. 

Barcelona  J8DE 

Deceimbre  De  J767." 

Inquiry  of  the  proper  oflicials  having  failed  to  enlighten  us 

12 


266       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

as  to  the  possession  of  these  cannon  by  the  State,  we  conclude 
them  to  be  a  remnant  of  the  field  artillery  sent  us  by  France 
during  the  Revolution.  The  Spaniard,  when  struck  with  a 
piece  of  metal,  gave  out  a  beautifully  clear,  melodious  ring,  as 
if  it  contained  an  alloy  of  silver,  and  brought  to  our  mind  those 
old  slumberers  on  the  ramparts  of  Panama,  into  whose  yet  molten 
mass  the  common  people  flung  their  silver  reals,  and  the  old 
dons  their  pieces  of  Eight,  while  the  priest  blessed  the  union 
with  the  baser  metal  and  consecrated  the  whole  to  victory. 

Whitefield's  Elm,  under  which  that  remarkable  man  preached 
in  1744,  formerly  stood  on  a  line  with  its  illustrious  fellow  the 
Washington  Elm,  and  not  far  from  the  turn  as  we  pass  from 
the  northerly  side  of  the  Common  into  Garden  Street.  It  ob- 
structed the  way,  and  the  axe  of  the  spoiler  was  laid  at  its  root 
two  years  ago. 

Dr.  Chauncy  and  Whitefield  were  not  the  best  friends 
imaginable.  They  had  mutually  written  at  and  preached 
against  each  other,  and  reciprocally  soured  naturally  amiable 
tempers.  The  twain  accidentally  met.  "  How  do  you  do, 
Brother  Chauncy,"  says  the  itinerant  laborer.  "  I  am  sorry  to 
see  you,"  replies  Dr.  C.  "  And  so  is  the  devil,"  retorted 
Whitefield. 

In  the  early  part  of  his  life  this  gentleman  happened  to  be 
preaching  in  the  open  fields,  when  a  drummer  was  present, 
who  was  determined  to  interrupt  the  services,  and  beat  his 
drum  in  a  violent  manner  in  order  to  drown  the  preacher's 
voice.  Mr.  Whitefield  spoke  very  loud,  but  the  din  of  the 
instrument  overpowered  his  voice.  He  therefore  called  out  to 
the  drummer  in  these  words  :  — 

*'  Friend,  you  and  I  serve  the  two  greatest  masters  existing,  but 
in  different  callings.  You  may  beat  up  volunteers  for  King  George, 
I  for  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  In  God's  name,  then,  don't  let  us  in- 
terrupt each  other  ;  the  world  is  wide  enough  for  us  both,  and  we 
may  get  recruits  in  abundance." 

This  speech  had  such  effect  that  the  drummer  went  away  in 
great  good-humor,  and  left  the  preacher  in  full  possession  of 
the  field. 


CAMBKIDGE   COMMON    AND   LANDMARKS.  267 


THE  WASHINGTON   ELM. 

Many  a  pilgrim  daily  wends  his  way  to  the  spot  where 

Wasliington  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  the  army.     Above 

him  towers 

"  A  goodly  elm,  of  noble  girth, 
That,  thrice  the  liuman  span  — 
Wlnle  on  their  variegated  course 

The  constant  seasons  ran  — 
Through  gale,  and  hail,  and  fiery  bolt, 
Had  stood  erect  as  man." 

He  surveys  its  crippled  branches,  swathed  in  bandages  ;  marks 
the  scars,  where,  after  holding  aloft  for  a  century  their  out- 
stretched arms,  limb  after  limb  has  fallen  nerveless  and  de- 
cayed ;  he  pauses  to  read  the  inscription  lodged  at  the  base  of 
the  august  fabric,  and  departs  the  place  in  meditative  mood, 
as  he  would  leave  a  churchyard  or  an  altar. 

Apart  from  its  association  with  a  great  event,  there  is  some- 
thing impressive  about  this  elm.     It  is  a  king  among  trees  ;  a 


268      HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

monarch,  native  to  the  soil,  whose  subjects,  once  scattered 
abroad  upon  the  plain  before  us,  have  all  vanished  and  left  it 
alone  in  solitary  state.  The  masses  of  foliage  which  hide  in  a 
measure  its  mutilated  members,  droop  gracefully  athwart  the 
old  highway,  and  still  beckon  the  traveller,  as  of  old,  to  halt 
and  breathe  awhile  beneath  their  shade.  It  is  not  pleasant  to 
view  the  decay  of  one  of  these  Titans  of  primeval  growth.  It 
is  too  suggestive  of  the  waning  forces  of  man,  and  of  that 

"  Last  scene  of  all, 
That  ends  this  strange  eventful  history." 

As  a  shrine  of  tlie  Revolution,  a  temple  not  made  with  hands, 
we  trust  the  old  elm  will  long  survive,  a  sacred  memorial  to 
generations  yet  to  come.  We  need  such  monitors  in  our  public 
places  to  arrest  our  headlong  race,  and  bid  us  calmly  count  the 
cost  of  the  empire  we  possess.  We  shall  not  feel  the  worse  for 
such  introspection,  nor  could  we  have  a  more  impressive  coun- 
sellor. The  memory  of  the  great  is  with  it  and  around  it ; 
it  is  indeed  on  consecrated  ground. 

When  the  camp  was  here  Washington  caused  a  platform  to 
be  built  among  the  branches  of  this  tree,  where  he  was  accus- 
tomed to  sit  and  survey  with  his  glass  the  country  round.  On 
the  granite  tablet  we  read  that 

Under  this  tree 

Washington 

First  took  command 

OF   THE 

American  Army, 
July  S^,  1775. 

On  the  spot  where  the  stone  church  is  erected  once  stood  an 
old  gambrel-roofed  house,  long  the  habitat  of  the  Moore  family. 
It  was  a  dwelhng  of  two  stories,  with  a  single  chimney  stand- 
ing in  the  midst,  like  a  tower,  to  support  the  weaker  fabric. 
In  front  were  three  of  those  shapely  Lombard  poplars,  erect 
and  prim,  like  trees  on  parade.  A  flower-garden  railed  it  in 
from  the  road  ;  a  porch  in  front,  and  another  at  the  northerly 
end,  gave  ingress  according  as  the  condition  of  the  visitor  might 
warrant. 


CAMBRIDGE    COMMON   AND   LANDMARKS.  269 

The  Moores  occupied  the  house  in  the  memorable  year  75, 
and  saw  from  the  windows  the  cavalcade  conducting  AVashing- 
ton  to  his  quarters,  —  this  being,  as  before  stated,  the  high-road 
from  Watertown  to  Cambridge  Common.  On  the  following 
day  the  family  might  have  witnessed  the  ceremonial  of  formal 
assumption  of  command  by  the  chief,  on  whom  all  eyes  were 
fixed  and  in  whom  all  hopes  were  centred. 

Deacon  Moore  —  does  he  at  length  rest  in  peace?  —  was, 
Avhile  in  the  flesh,  much  given  to  patching  and  repairing  his 
fences,  outbuildings,  and  the  wooden  belongings  of  his  domain 
in  general.  He  bore  the  character  of  an  upright,  downright, 
conscientious  deacon,  walking  in  the  odor  of  sanctity,  and  was 
regarded  with  childish  awe  by  the  urchins  of  the  grammar- 
school  whenever  he  chose  to  appear  abroad.  The  deacon's  house 
had  its  inevitable  best  room,  into  which  heaven's  sunshine  was 
never  allowed  to  penetrate,  and  which  was  rarely  opened  except 
to  admit  a  stranger  or  hold  a  funeral  service.  There  are  yet 
such  rooms  in  New  England,  with  their  stiff",  black  hair-cloth 
furniture,  their  ghostly  pictures,  and  dank,  mouldy  odors.  The 
carefully  varnished  mahogany  has  a  smell  of  the  undertaker  ; 
every  sense  is  oppressed,  and  the  soul  pleads  for  release  from 
the  funereal  chamber.  We  repeat,  there  are  still  such  "best 
rooms  "  in  New  England. 

Upon  the  decease  of  Deacon  Moore  it  was  discovered  that 
some  peculations  had  been  made  from  the  treasury  of  Dr. 
Holmes's  church.  These  were  laid  at  the  door  of  the  departed 
deacon.  Now  comes  the  startling  revelation.  Night  after 
night  the  ghost  of  Deacon  Moore  revisited  his  earthly  abode, 
and  made  night  hideous  with  audible  pounding,  as  if  in  the  act 
of  mending  the  fence,  as  was  the  deacon's  wont  in  life.  The 
affrighted  neighbors,  suddenly  roused  from  slumber,  fearfully 
drew  their  curtains  aside,  and  peered  forth  into  the  night  in 
([uest  of  the  spectre ;  but  still  invisible  the  wraith  pursued  its 
midnight  labors. 

The  Jennisons  succeeded  the  Moores,  and  at  length  the  shade 
came  no  more.  Not  many  years  ago  the  old  house  was  demol- 
ished.    A  vault  was  discovered  underneath  the  kitchen,  walled 


270       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

up  with  rough  stone,  and  in  this  receptacle  were  two  human 
skeletons. 

What  tale  of  horror  was  here  concealed,  what  deed  of  blood 
had  caused  the  disappearance  of  two  human  beings  from  the 
face  of  the  earth,  was  never  revealed.  For  an  unknown  time 
they  had  remained  sealed  up  in  the  manner  related,  and  the 
later  dwellers  in  the  house  were  totally  unconscious  of  their 
horrid  tenants.  A  family  servant  had  long  slept  immediately 
above  these  bones,  and  we  marked,  even  after  years  had  passed 
away,  a  strange  glitter  in  his  eye  as  he  recalled  his  couch  upon 
a  tomb. 

The  remains  were  of  adult  persons,  one  a  female.  What 
motive  had  consigned  them  to  this  mysterious  liiding-place  is 
left  to  conjecture.  Was  it  domestic  vengeance,  too  deadly  for 
the  public  ear  1  We  answer  that  two  individuals  could  not 
have  been  suddenly  taken  out  of  the  little  community  without 
question.  Were  they  some  unwary,  tired  wayfarers  who  had 
sought  hospitable  entertainment,  and  found  graves  instead  1 

"  But  Echo  never  mocked  the  human  tongue  ; 
Some  weighty  crime  that  Heaven  could  not  pardon, 
A  secret  curse  on  tliat  old  building  hung, 
And  its  deserted  garden." 

We  have  lived  to  have  grave  doubts  whether,  as  the  old 
adage  says,  "  Murder  will  out."  Inspect,  if  you  have  the 
stomach  for  it,  our  calendar  of  crime,  and  mark  the  array  of 
names  which  belonged  to  those  whose  fate  is  unknown,  and 
who  are  there  set  down  like  the  missing  of  an  army  after  the 
battle.  The  record  is  startling  ;  only  at  the  final  muster  will 
the  victims  answer  to  the  fatal  list,  and  speak 

"  Of  graves,  perchance,  untimely  scooped 
At  midnight  dark  and  dank." 

In  Spain  an  ancient  custom  constrains  each  passer-by  to  cast 
a  stone  upon  the  heap  raised  on  the  scene  of  wayside  murder, 
until  at  length  a  monument  arises  to  warn  against  assassination. 
The  peasant  always  pauses  to  repeat  an  ave  to  the  souls  of  the 
slain.     On  this  spot  a  church  has  reared  its  huge  bulk,  piling 


CAMBRIDGE   COMMON    AND    LANDMARKS.  271 

stone  upon  stone  until  its  steeple,  overtopping  the  Old  Elm, 
stands  a  mightier  monument  to  the  manes  of  the  unknown  dead. 

The  events  in  the  life  of  Washington  which  have  most  im- 
pressed us  are,  the  day  when  he  unsheathed  his  sword  beneath 
the  Old  Elm  ;  the  morn  of  the  battle  of  Trenton  ;  the  address 
to  his  despairing,  mutinous  officers  at  Newburg ;  and  the  fare- 
well to  his  generals  at  New  York.  As  he  was  mounting  his 
horse  before  Trenton,  an  officer  presented  him  with  a  despatch. 
His  remark,  ''  What  a  time  to  bring  me  a  letter  ! "  is  the  sequel 
of  his  thoughts,  —  all  had  been  staked  on  the  issue.  When  he 
rose  from  his  bed  early  in  the  morning  of  the  meeting  at  I^ew- 
burg,  he  told  Colonel  Humphreys  that  anxiety  had  prevented 
him  from  sleeping  one  moment  the  preceding  night.  Unwill- 
ing to  trust  to  his  powers  of  extempore  speaking,  Washington 
reduced  what  he  meant  to  say  to  writing,  and  commenced  read- 
ing it  without  spectacles,  which  at  that  time  he  used  only  occa- 
sionally. He  found,  however,  that  he  could  not  proceed  with- 
out them.  He  stoj^ped,  took  them  out,  and  as  he  prepared  to 
place  them,  exclaimed,  "  I  have  grown  blind  as  well  as  gray  in 
the  service  of  my  country."  In  these  instances  we  see  the 
patriot ;  in  the  adieu  to  his  lieutenants,  we  see  the  man. 

When  Washington  rode  into  town  after  the  evacuation  of 
Boston,  he  was  accompanied  by  Mrs.  Washington,  who,  in 
accordance  with  our  old-time  elegant  manners,  was  styled 
"  Lady "  Washington.  Upon  reaching  the  Old  South,  the 
General  wished  to  enter  the  building.  Shubael  Hewes,  who  at 
this  time  kept  the  keys,  lived  opposite,  and  the  General  there- 
fore drew  up  at  his  door. 

With  his  usual  courtesy  the  General  inquired  after  the  health 
of  the  family,  and  was  told  that  Mrs.  H.  had,  the  day  before, 
been  delivered  of  a  fine  child.  At  this  Mrs.  Washington  in- 
sisted upon  seeing  the  infant,  born  on  an  occasion  so  auspicious 
as  the  repossession  of  Boston  by  our  troops,  and  it  was  accord- 
ingly brought  out  to  the  carriage  and  placed  in  her  lap. 

The  General,  alighting,  went  into  the  meeting-house,  and, 
ascending  to  the  gallery,  where  he  could  fully  observe  the 
havoc  made  by  Burgoyne's  Light  Horse,  remarked  to  the  per- 


272      HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

son  who  accompanied  him  that  he  was  surprised  that  the  Eng- 
lish, who  so  reverenced  their  own  places  of  worship,  should 
have  shown  such  a  vandal  disposition  here. 

Washington  died  at  sixty-seven  ;  Knox,  by  an  accident,  at 
fifty-six  ;  vSullivan,  at  hfty-hve  ;  Gates,  at  seventy-eight ;  Greene, 
at  forty- four  ;  Heath,  at  seventy-seven ;  Arnold,  at  sixty  ;  and 
Lee,  at  fifty-one.  Putnam  lived  to  be  seventy-two,  and  Stark 
to  be  ninety-three,  so  that  it  was  commonly  said  of  him,  that  he 
was  first  in  the  field  and  last  out  of  it. 

But  other  scenes  await  us,  and  though  we  feel  that  it  is  good 
for  us  to  be  here,  Ave  must  reverently  bid  adieu  to  the  Old  Elm.  It 
could  perchance  tell,  were  it,  like  the  Dryads  of  old,  loquacious, 
of  the  settlers'  cabins,  when  it  was  a  sapKng,  of  the  building 
of  the  old  wooden  seminary,  and  of  the  multitudes  that  have 
passed  and  repassed  under  its  verdant  arch.  The  smoke  from 
a  hundred  rebel  camp-fires  drifted  through  its  branches  and 
wreathed  around  its  royal  dome  in  the  day  of  maturity,  while 
the  drum-beat  at  the  waking  of  the  camp  frighted  the  feathered 
songsters  from  their  leafy  retreats  and  silenced  their  matin 
lays.  The  huzzas  that  went  up  when  our  great  leader  bared 
the  weapon  he  at  length  sheathed  with  all  honor  made  every 
leaf  tremulous  with  joy,  and  every  brown  and  sturdy  limb 
to  wave  their  green  banners  in  triumph  on  high.  We  salute 
thy  patriarchal  trunk,  thy  withered  branches,  and  thy  scanty 
tresses,  0  venerable  and  yet  lordly  Elm  !     Vale  ! 

It  is  much  more  a  matter  of  regret  than  surprise  that  we 
have  not  in  all  Xew  England  a  specimen  of  antique  church 
architecture  worthy  of  the  name.  Rigid  economy  dictated  the 
barn-like  structures  which  were  the  first  Puritan  houses  of  wor- 
ship. Quaint  they  certainly  were,  and  not  destitute  of  a  cer- 
tain sombre  picturesqueness,  with  their  queer  little  towers  and 
wonderful  weather-vanes  ;  and  even  their  blackening  rafters  of 
prodigious  thickness,  their  long  aisles,  and  carved  balustrades, 
gave  modest  glimpses  of  a  Rembrandt-like  interior.  But  the 
beautiful  forms  of  Jones  and  of  Wren  were  left  behind  when 
the  Mayflower  sailed,  and  not  a  single  type  of  Old  England's 
pride  of  architecture  stands  on  American  soil.     Simplicity  in 


CAMBRIDGE  G0MM0:N  AND  LANDMARKS.      273 

building,  iii  maimers,  and  in  dress,  as  well  as  in  religion,  were 
the  base  on  which  our  Puritan  fathers  builded.  Had  the 
means  not  been  wanting,  it  may  be  doubted  whether  they 
would  have  been  apphed  to  the  erection  of  splendid  public  edi- 
tices.  The  motives  which  enforced  the  adherence  of  the  first 
settlers  to  the  gaunt  and  unaisthetic  structures  of  their  time 
ceased,  in  a  great  measure,  to  exist  a  hundred  years  later,  but 
no  revival  of  taste  appeared,  and  even  the  Episcopalians,  with 
the  memories  of  their  glorious  Old  World  temples,  fell  in 
with  the  prevailing  lethargy  which  characterized  the  reign  of 
ugliness. 

Christ  Church  stands  confronting  the  Common  much  as  it 
looked  in  colonial  times.  The  subscription  was  originally 
formed  in  Boston,  the  subscribers  being  either  resident  or  en- 
gaged in  business  there.  The  lot  included  part  of  the  Common 
and  part  of  the  estate  of  James  Eeed.  The  building  was  at 
lirst  only  sixty-five  feet  in  length  by  forty-five  in  width,  exclu- 
sive of  chancel  and  tower,  but  has  been  much  enlarged,  to 
accommodate  an  increasing  parish,  —  a  work  which  its  original 
plan,  and  the  material  of  which  it  is  constructed,  rendered 
easy.  Peter  Harrison,  the  architect  of  King's  Chapel  in  Bos- 
ton, was  also  the  designer  of  this  edifice,  and  seems  to  have 
followed  the  same  plan  as  for  that  now  venerable  structure. 
Service  was  first  held  here  on  October  15,  1761,  the  Rev.  East 
Apthorp,  whom  we  have  already  visited,  officiating.  Of  Dr. 
Apthorp's  father  it  is  written  that  he  studied  to  mind  his 
own  business,  —  a  circumstance  so  rare  as  to  wellnigh  deserve 
canonization. 

In  the  alterations  which  have  been  called  for  the  primitive 
appearance  of  the  building  has  been,  in  a  great  measure,  pre- 
served. The  exterior  is  exceedingly  simple,  but  harmonious, 
the  tower,  placed  in  the  centre  of  the  front,  giving  en- 
trances on  three  of  its  sides.  The  old  bell-tower  appeared 
rather  smaller  than  its  successoi",  and  had  a  pointed  roof,  sur- 
mounted, as  at  present,  by  a  gilded  ball.  The  symbolic  cross, 
which  the  Puritans  hated  with  superstitious  antipathy,  did  not 
appear  on  the  pinnacle,  out  of  deference  perhaps  to  the  feeling 
12*  K 


274       HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

which  abominated  a  painted  window,  a  Gothic  arch,  or  chancel 
rail,  as  the  concomitants  of  that  Episcopacy  against  which  the 
Cromwellian  iconoclasts  had  waged  unrelenting  war  in  every 
cathedral  from  Chester  to  Canterbury. 

Upon  the  Declaration  of  Independence  by  the  Colonies,  all 
the  taverns  and  shops  were  despoiled  of  their  kingly  emblems. 
A  Boston  letter  of  that  date  says  :  — 

"  In  consequence  of  Independence  being  declared  here,  all  the 
signs  which  had  crowns  on  them  even  the  Mitre  and  Crown  in  the 
organ  loft  of  the  chappell  were  taken  down,  and  Mr.  Parker,  (who 
is  the  Episcopal  minister  in  town)  left  off  praying  for  the  king." 

The  interior  of  Christ  Church  is  quiet  and  tasteful,  with 

"Storied  windows  riclily  dight, 
Casting  a  dim  religions  liglit." 

The  Corinthian  pillars  of  soHd  wood  and  the  original  choir  are 
stiU  remaining.  And,  very  like,  the  stiff,  straight-backed  pews 
are  a  relic  of  ancient  discomfort.  The  tablets  bearing  the  Ten 
Commandments  are  mementos  of  Old  Trinity  in  Boston  wlien 
the  wooden  edifice  was  taken  down,  and  have  by  this  means 
survived  their  mother  church,  which  the  great  fire  of  1872  left 
a  magnificent  ruin.  A  silver  flagon  and  cup,  now  in  use  to 
celebrate  the  Holy  Communion,  were  presented  by  Governor 
Hutchinson  in  1772.  These  vessels  were  the  property  of 
King's  Chapel,  Boston,  which  then  received  a  new  service  in 
exchange  for  the  old.     They  are  inscribed  as 

The  Gift  of 

K.  William  and  Q  Mary 

To  y«  ReV*  Samll.  Myles 

For  y«  use  of 

Theire  Majesties'  Chappell  in  N.  England. 

MDCXCIV. 

Dr.  Apthorp  was  succeeded  by  Rev.  Winwood  Serjeant,  in 
whose  time,  the  Revolution  having  converted  his  wealthy  and 
influential  parishioners  into  refugees  and  driven  him  to  seek  an 
asylum  elsewhere,  the  church  became  a  barrack,  in  which  Cap- 
tain Chester's  company,  of  Wethersfield,  Connecticut,  was  quar- 


CAMBEIDGE  COMMON  AND  LANDMARKS.      275 

tered  at  the  time  of  Bunker  Hill,  and  after  them  one  of  the 
companies  of  Southern  riflemen.  It  appears  also  to  have  been 
some  time  occupied  as  a  guard-house  by  our  forces,  rivalling  in 
this  respect  the  wanton  usage  of  the  Boston  churches  by  the 
king's  troops.  But  was  not  Westminster  Abbey  occupied  by 
soldiery  in  1643^  General  Washington,  himself  a  churchman, 
attended  a  service  here,  held  at  the  request  of  Mrs.  Washing- 
ton, on  Sunday,  the  last  day  of  1775.  The  religious  rite  was 
performed  by  Colonel  William  Palfrey,  one  of  the  General's 
aids.  Mrs.  Gates  and  Mrs.  Custis  were  also  present.  There 
is  a  tradition  that  Washington  continued  to  attend  service 
here,  but  the  General  was  probably  too  politic  to  have  adopted 
a  course  so  little  in  accord  with  the  views  of  the  army  in  gen- 
eral. He  attended  Dr.  Appleton's  church  at  times,  and  always 
showed  himself  possessed  of  true  Christian  liberality.  On  at 
least  one  occasion  he  partook  of  the  Sacrament  at  the  Presby- 
terian table.  His  generals  were,  in  this  respect,  mindful  of  his 
example.  At  the  baptism  of  a  son  of  Genei'al  Knox,  in  Boston, 
Lafayette,  a  Catholic,  and  Greene,  a  Quaker,  stood  godfathers  to 
the  child,  Knox  himself  being  a  Presbyterian. 

From  1775  until  1790  Christ  Church  remained  in  the  con- 
dition in  which  the  war  had  involved  it.  During  that  time  it 
had  neither  parish  nor  rector,  but  in  the  latter  year  it  was  re- 
opened, the  Eev.  Dr.  Parker  of  Trinity,  Boston,  officiating  for 
the  occasion.  A  chime  of  thirteen  bells  was  placed  in  the 
belfry  in  1860.  For  many  interesting  particulars  of  the  history 
of  this  church  the  reader  is  referred  to  the  historical  discourse 
of  Eev.  Nicholas  Hoppin,  the  present  rector. 

The  remains  of  the  unfortunate  Eichard  Brown,  a  lieutenant 
of  the  Convention  troops,  were  deposited  under  this  church. 
We  have  briefly  referred  to  the  shooting  of  this  officer  on 
Prospect  Hill,  as  he  was  riding  out  with  two  women.  It  gave 
rise  to  a  paper  w^ar  between  General  Phillips  and  General 
Heath,  in  which,  every  advantage  being  on  the  side  of  the 
latter,  he  may  be  said  to  have  come  off  victorious.  An  inquest 
pronounced  the  shooting  justifiable,  but  the  British  officers, 
exasperated  to  the  highest  degree  by  this  melancholy  aflair, 


276       HISTORIC    FIELDS   AXD   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 


affected  to  believe  themselves  the  objects  of  indiscriminate 
slaughter. 

It  was  at  the  time  the  church  was  opened  for  the  interment 
of  Lieutenant  Brown,  according  to  the  rite  of  the  Church  of 
England,  that  the  damage  to  the  interior  took  place.  Ensign 
Anbury  asserts  that  the  Americans  then  seized  the  opportunity 
"  to  plunder,  ransack,  and  deface  everything  they  could  lay 
their  hands  on,  destroying  the  pulpit,  reading-desk,  and  com- 
munion table,  and,  ascending  the  organ-loft,  destroyed  the  bel- 
lows and  broke  all  the  pipes  of  a  very  handsome  instrument." 
This  organ  was  made  by  Snetzler. 

The  burial-place  which  lies  between  the  chmxhes  has  re- 
ceived from  the  earUest 
times  of  our  history  the 
asliey  of  freeman  andslave, 
squire  and  rustic.  In  its 
repose  mingle  the  dust  of 
college  presidents,  soldiers 
of  forgotten  wars,  and 
ministers  of  wellnigh  for- 
gotten doctrines.  The  ear- 
liest inscription  is  in  1653, 
but  the  interments  antecedent  to  this  date  were  made,  in  many 
cases  doubtless,  without  any  graven  tablet  or  other  stone  than 
some  hea^y  mass  selected  at  hazard,  to  protect  the  remains  from 
beasts  of  prey.  In  stiU  other  instances  the  lines  traced  on  the 
stones  have  been  effaced  by  natural  causes,  and  even  the  rude 
monuments  themselves  have  disappeared  beneath  the  mould. 

**The  sluniberer's  mound  grows  fresh  and  green, 
Then  slowly  disappears  ; 
The  mosses  creep,  the  gray  stones  lean, 
Earth  hides  his  date  and  years." 

Among  the  earlier  tenants  of  God's  Acre,  as  Longfellow  has 
reverently  distinguished  it,  are  Andrew  Belcher,  the  innkeeper, 
Stephen  Day,  the  printer,  and  Samuel  Green,  his  successor, 
Elijah  Corlet,  master  of  the  "  faire  Grammar  Schoole,"  Dunster, 
first  President  of  the  CoUege,  and  Thomas  Shepard,  minister 


CAMBRIDGE  COMMON  AND  LANDMARKS.      277 

of  the  chiu*cli  in  C'ambritlge,  wlio  succeeded  Hooker  when  he 
departed  to  plant  the  Colony  of  Connecticut.  In  their  various 
callings,  these  were  the  forefathers  of  the  hamlet  ;  Old  Cam- 
bridge is  really  concentrated  within  this  narrow  space. 

The  consideration  which  attached  to  the  position  of  governor 
of  the  College  is  indicated  by  the  long,  pompous  Latin  inscri})- 
tions,  to  be  deciphered  only  by  the  scholar.  Classic  lore,  as 
dead  to  the  world  in  general  as  is  the  subject  of  its  eulogium, 
followed  them  to  their  tombs,  — 

'•'  But  for  mine  oAvn  part  it  was  all  Greek  to  me,"  — 

and  is  there  stretched  out  at  full  length  in  many  a  line  of 
sounding  import.  Dunster,  Chauncy,  Leverett,  Wads  worth, 
Holyoke,  AVillard,  and  Webber,  lie  here  awaiting  the  great 
Commencement,  where  Freshman  may  at  once  attain  the  high- 
est degree,  and  where  College  parchment  availeth  nothing. 

The  disappearance  of  many  of  the  leaden  family-escutcheons 
has  already  been  accounted  for  by  their  conversion  into  deadly 
missiles.  Xecessity,  which  knows  no  law,  led  to  these  acts  of 
sacrilege,  and  yet  we  should  as  soon  think  of  fashioning  the 
bones  of  the  dead  themselves  into  weapons  as  rob  their  tablets 
of  their  blazonry.  The  cavities  in  which  were  placed  the 
heraldic  emblems  are  now  so  many  little  basins  to  catch  the 
dews  of  heaven,  —  our  precious  and  only  Holy  Water. 

The  Vassall  tomb,  a  horizontal  sandstone  slab  resting  on  five 
upright  columns,  is  one  of  the  most  conspicuous  objects  in  the 
cemetery.  On  the  face  of  the  slab  are  sculptured  the  chalice 
and  sun,  which  may  have  been  borne  upon  the  banner  of  some 
gallant  French  crusader  ;  for  the  Vassalls  were  lords  and  barons 
in  ancient  Guienne.  Hospitality  and  unsullied  reputation  are 
in  the  heraldic  conjunction  reduced  to  knightly  or  kingly  sub- 
jection in  the  name.  Whether  amid  the  sands  of  Holy  Land, 
the  soil  of  sunny  France,  or  the  clay  of  Cambridge  churchyard, 
the  slumberers  calmly  await  the  summons  of  the  great  King-of- 
Arms. 

Near  Christ  Church  is  a  handsome  monument  of  Scotch  gran- 
ite, erected  by  the  city  in  1870  to  the  memory  of  John  Hicks, 


278       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

William  Marcy,  and  Moses  Richardson,  buried  here,  and  of 
Jabez  Wyman  and  Jason  Russell,  of  Menotomy,  who  fell  on 
the  day  of  Lexington  battle. 

Here  is  the  form  of  an  invitation  to  a  funeral  of  the  olden 
time.     Rev.  Mr.  Nowell  died  in  London  in  1688. 

"  ifor  the  Reuerend  Mr.  Mather.     These  — 

Reuerend  S^,  —  You  are  desired  to  accompany  the  Corps  of  Mr 
Samuell  Nowell,  minister  of  the  Gospell,  of  Eminent  Note  in  New 
England,  deceased,  from  MF  Quicks  meating  place  in  Bartholemew 
Close,  on  Thursday  next  at  two  of  the  clock  in  the  afternoon  p'cisely^ 
to  the  new  burying  place  by  the  Artillery  ground." 

An  epitaph  has  been  described  as  giving  a  good  character  to 
persons  on  their  going  to  a  new  place,  who  sometimes  enjoyed 
a  very  bad  character  in  the  place  they  had  just  left.  There  is 
something  touching  about  an  unknown  grave.  Even  the  igno- 
rant crave  some  memento  when  they  are  gone,  and  the  dread 
of  being  wholly  forgotten  on  earth  is  depicted  in  Gray's  incom- 
parable lines  :  — 

"  Yet  even  these  bones  from  insult  to  protect, 
Some  frail  memorial  still  erected  nigh, 
With  \incouth  rhymes  and  shapeless  sculpture  decked, 
Implores  the  passing  tribute  of  a  sigh." 

Occasionally  we  see  a  stone  splintered  or  wantonly  defaced. 
Sometimes  an  old  heraldic  device  is  obliterated  by  a  modern 
chisel,  to  give  place  to  some  new-comer  who  has  thus,  through 
the  agency  of  a  soulless  grave-digger,  possessed  himself  of  the 
last  heritage  of  the  former  proprietor. 

"  I  think  I  see  them  at  their  work  those  sapient  trouble  tombs." 

While  we  are  beautifying  our  newer  cemeteries,  and  making 
them  to  "  blossom  as  the  rose,"  our  ancient  burial-places  remain 
neglected.  Cambridge  churchyard  was  long  a  common  thor- 
oughfare and  playground,  from  which  the  stranger  augured  but 
ill  of  our  reverence  for  the  ashes  of  our  ancestors.  The  path 
across  the  ground  is  still  much  frequented,  and  we  marked  the 
absence   of  all  attempt   at   beautifying   the  spot.     There   are 


CAMBRIDGE   COMMON   AND   LANDMARKS.  279 

neither  shady  walks  nor  blooming  shrubs  in  a  place  so  public 
as  to  meet  the  eye  of  every  wayfarer.  The  older  stones,  half 
hidden  in  the  tangled  grass,  threaten  total  disappearance  at  no 
distant  day.  Pray  Heaven  all  that  is  left  of  ancient  Newtown 
does  not  return  to  a  state  of  nature. 

Governor  Belcher,  one  of  Harvard's  best  friends,  and  the 
patron  of  Princeton  College,  died  at  his  government  in  New 
Jersey  in  1757.  He  was  much  attached  to  Cambridge,  his 
Alma  Mater,  and  the  friends  of  his  youth.  In  his  will  he  de- 
sired to  be  buried  in  the  midst  of  those  he  had  loved,  and 
accordingly  his  remains  were  deposited  in  this  burying-ground 
in  a  tomb  constructed  a  short  time  previous.  It  appears  that 
the  governor  and  his  bosom  friend  Judge  Remington  had  ex- 
pressed the  desire  to  be  buried  in  one  grave,  so  that  when  Bel- 
cher was  laid  in  the  tomb  the  body  of  his  friend,  who  had 
preceded  him,  was  disinterred  and  laid  by  his  side.  The  mon- 
ument which  the  governor  had  directed  to  be  raised  over  his 
resting-place  was  never  erected,  and  in  time  the  memory  of  the 
place  of  his  interment  itself  passed  away  with  the  generation  to 
which  he  belonged.  The  tomb  became  the  family  vault  of  the 
Jennisons.  On  the  decease  of  Dr.  Jennison,  it  was  found  to 
be  completely  filled  with  tenants.  The  old  sexton,  Brackett, 
upon  being  questioned,  recollected  to  have  seen  at  the  bottom 
of  the  vault  the  fragments  of  an  old-fashioned  coffin,  covered 
with  velvet  and  studded  with  gilt  nails.  This  was  believed  to 
be  that  of  Governor  Belcher,  whose  granddaughter  w^as  the  wife 
of  Dr.  Jennison.  The  tomb  of  Belcher  and  that  of  Judge 
Trowbridge  (since  known  as  the  Dana  tomb)  are  near  the  gate- 
way. In  the  latter  were  placed  the  remains  of  Washington 
Allston. 

There  have  been  funerals  in  New  England  with  some  attempt 
at  feudal  pomp.  When  Governor  Leverett  died,  in  1679,  the 
pageant  was  rendered  as  imposing  as  possible.  Though  the 
governor  had  carefully  concealed  the  fact  of  his  knighthood  by 
Charles  II.  during  his  lifetime,  the  customs  of  knightly  burial 
were  brought  into  requisition  at  his  interment  in  Boston. 
There  were  bearers,  carrying  each  a  banner  roll,  at  the  four 


280      HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

corners  of  the  hearse.  After  these  came  the  principal  gentle- 
men of  the  town  with  the  armor  of  the  deceased,  the  first  bear- 
ing the  helmet,  the  last  the  spur.  The  procession  closed  with 
the  led  horse  of  the  governor  followed  by  bamiers. 

The  home  of  Judge  Trowbridge  was  on  the  ground  on  which 
the  First  Church  now  stands.  Trowbridge,  who  had  been 
attorney-general,  and  who  was,  at  the  breaking  out  of  the  Eevo- 
lution,  judge  of  the  Supreme  Court,  resigned  soon  after  the 
battle  of  Lexington,  and  retired  to  Byfield,  where  he  enjoyed 
for  a  time  the  companionship  of  his  pupil,  Theophilus  Parsons, 
whose  character  he  no  doubt  impressed  with  his  o\\ti  stamp. 
Judge  Trowbridge  presided  at  the  trial  of  Captain  Preston  with 
a  fairness  and  ability  that  commanded  respect.  He  was  well  in 
years  when  the  Revolution  burst  forth  in  full  vigor,  and  al- 
though offered  a  safe  conduct,  declined  to  leave  the  country, 
saying,  "  I  have  nothing  to  fear  from  my  countrymen."  He 
returned  to  Cambridge,  and  died  here  in  1793. 

A  little  time  kfter  the  battle  of  Lexington  Judge  Trowbridge 
stated  to  Rev.  John  Eliot  that,  "  it  was  a  most  unhappy  thing 
that  Hutchinson  was  ever  chief  justice  of  our  court.  What 
Otis  said,  'that  he  would  set  the  province  in  flames,  if  he 
perished  by  the  fire,'  has  come  to  pass."  At  the  last  court 
held  under  the  charter,  Peter  Oliver  was  chief  justice,  and  Ed- 
mund Trowbridge,  Foster  Hutchinson,  William  Cushing,  and 
William  Brown  were  the  judges.  Of  these,  Cushing  was  the 
only  one  who  afterwards  appeared  on  the  bench. 

"  The  scene  is  changed  !     No  green  arcade, 
No  trees  all  ranged  arow." 

The  old  Brattle  house,  on  the  street  of  that  name,  is  the  first 
you  meet  with  after  passing  the  huge  wooden  hive,  formerly  a 
hotel  under  the  familiar  designation  of  the  Brattle  House,  but 
now  dedicated  to  the  art  preservative  of  all  arts.  The  buildings 
of  the  University  Press  occupy  a  part  of  the  Brattle  estate, 
which  was  once  the  most  noted  in  Cambridge  for  the  elegance 
of  its  grounds  and  the  walk  laid  out  by  the  proprietor,  known 
in  its  day  as  Brattle's  Mall.     Miss  Ruth  Stiles,  afterwards  the 


CAMBRIDGE   COMMON   AND    LANDMARKS.  281 

mother  of  Dr.  Gannett  of  Boston,  penned  some  beautiful  lines 
to  this  promenade  :  — 

"  Say,  noble  artist,  by  Avhat  power  inspired 
Thy  skilful  hands  such  varied  scenes  compose  ? 
At  wliose  command  the  sluggish  soil  retir'd. 
And  from  the  marsh  this  beauteous  mall  ai'ose  ?  " 

The  walk,  which  once  conducted  to  the  river's  side,  was  the 
favorite  promenade  for  the  nymphs  and  swains  of  Old  Cam- 
bridge, as  on  a  moonlit  eve  they  wandered  forth 
to  whisper  their  vows,  chant  a  love-ditty  under 
the  shadows  of  the  Hstening  trees,  or  idly  cast 
a  pebble  into  the  current  of  the  shimmering 
stream.  Besides  the  mall,  was  a  marble  grotto 
in  which  gurgled  forth  a  spring,  where  love- 
draughts  of  singular  potency  were  quaffed,  en- 
chaining, so  't  was  said,  the  wayward  fancies  of 
the  coquette,  or  giving  heart  of  grace  to  bashful 
wooer.  Reader,  the  spring  has  coyly  with-  brattle. 
drawn  beneath  the  turf,  though  its  refreshing  pool  is  indicated 
by  a  ruined  arch  nigh  the  wall  of  the  enclosure  ;  the  mall,  too, 
is  gone,  but  still,  perchance, 

"  Light-footed  fairies  guard  the  verdant  side 
And  watch  the  turf  by  Cynthia's  lucid  beam." 

The  elder  Thomas  Brattle  was  an  eminent  merchant  of  Bos- 
ton, and  a  principal  founder  of  Brattle  Street  Church.  From 
him,  also,  that  street  took  its  name.  He  was  the  brother  of 
William,  the  respected  minister  of  Cambridge,  William  Brattle, 
the  tory  brigadier,  went  into  exile  in  the  royalist  hegira,  de- 
serting his  house  and  all  his  worldly  possessions.  The  soldiery 
were  not  long  in  scenting  out  and  making  spoil  of  the  good 
liquors  contained  in  the  fugitive's  cellars,  until  this  house,  with 
others,  was  placed  under  guard,  and  the  effects  of  every  sort 
taken  in  charge  for  the  use  of  the  Colonial  forces. 

Thomas  Brattle,  the  son  of  the  brigadier,  was  the  author  of 
the  improvements  which  made  his  grounds  the  most  celebrated 
in  New  England.     He  left  the  country  in  1775  for  England, 


282       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

but  returned  before  tbe  close  of  the  war,  and  had  the  good  for- 
tune to  obtain  the  removal  of  his  political  disabilities.  His 
character  was  amiable,  and  his  pursuits  prompted  by  an  en- 
lightened benevolence  and  hospitality.  One  of  the  last  acts  of 
his  life  was  to  erect  a  bath  at  what  was  called  Brick  Wharf, 
for  the  benefit  of  the  students  of  the  University,  many  of  whom 
had  lost  their  lives  while  bathing  in  the  river.  Brattle  was  an 
enthusiastic  lover  of  horticulture,  and  devoted  much  of  his  time 
to  the  embellishment  of  his  grounds. 

General  Mifflin  occupied  the  Brattle  mansion  while  acting  as 
quartermaster-general  to  our  forces.  Mifflin  and  Dr.  Jonathan 
Potts,  the  distinguished  army-surgeon  of  the  Revolution,  married 
sisters.     The  former  was  small  in  stature,  very  active  and  alert, 

—  qualities  which  he  displayed  in  the  Lechmere's  Point  afiair, 

—  but  withal  somewhat  bustling,  and  fond  of  telling  the  sol- 
diers he  would  get  them  into  a  scrape.  His  manners  were 
popular,  and  he  appeared  every  inch  a  soldier  when  on  duty. 
Despite  the  cloud  which  gathered  about  Mifflin's  connection 
with  the  conspiracy  to  depose  Washington,  he  nobly  exerted 
himself  to  reinforce  the  wreck  of  the  grand  army  at  the  close 
of  the  campaign  of  1776. 

Mrs.  John  Adams  paid  a  visit  to  Major  Mifflin's  in  Decem- 
ber, 1775,  to  meet  Mrs.  Morgan,  the  wife  of  Dr.  Church's  suc- 
cessor as  director-general  of  the  hospital.  In  the  company 
were  Generals  Gates  and  Lee.    Tea  was  drank  without  restraint. 

"  General  Lee,"  says  Mrs.  Adams,  "  was  very  urgent  for  me  to 
tarry  in  to^\^l  and  dine  with  him  and  the  ladies  present  at  Hobgob- 
lin Hall,  but  I  excused  myself.  The  General  was  determined  that 
I  should  not  only  be  acquainted  with  him,  but  with  his  companions 
too,  and  therefore  placed  a  chair  before  me,  into  which  he  ordered 
Mr.  Spada  to  mount  and  present  his  paw  to  me  for  better  acquaint- 
ance. I  could  not  do  otherwise  than  accept  it.  '  That,  Madam,' 
says  he,  '  is  the  dog  which  Mr. has  made  famous. 


)  n 


Mrs.  Adams  further  says  :  — 

"  You  hear  nothing  from  the  ladies  but  about  Major  Mifflin's  easy 
address,  politeness,  complaisance,  etc.    'T  is  well  he  has  so  agreeable 


CAMBRIDGE   COMMON   AND   LANDMARKS.  283 

a  lady  at  Philadelphia.  They  know  nothing  about  forts,  intrench- 
ments,  etc.,  when  they  return  ;  or  if  they  do,  they  are  all  forgotten 
and  swallowed  up  in  his  accomplishments." 

It  is  evident  that  the  Major  was  a  gallant  cavalier,  and 
would  have  been  called  in  our  day  a  first-rate  ladies'  man. 
Margaret  Fuller  was  at  one  time  a  resident  of  this  house,  now 
the  property  of  Samuel  Batchelder,  Esq. 

To  understand  what  was  this  old  Colonial  highway  in 
which  we  are  now  sauntering,  contract  its  breadth,  expanded 
at  the  cost  of  the  contiguous  estates ;  rear  again  the  magnifi- 
cent trees  sacrificed  to  the  improvement,  save  here  and  there  a 
noble  specimen  spared  at  the  earnest  intercession  of  the  near 
proprietors,  or  where  protected,  like  the  "  spreading  chestnut- 
tree,"  by  the  poet's  art,  —  would  that  he  might  dedicate  his 
muse  to  every  one  of  these  mighty  forest  guardians !  —  some 
relics  of  the  dispersed  sylvan  host  yet  clings  to  the  soil ;  carry 
the  boundaries  of  Thomas  Brattle  to  those  of  the  Vassalls ; 
obliterate  the  modern  villas,  with  their  neutral  tints  and 
chateau  roofs  ;  restore  the  orchards,  the  garden  glacis,  the  fra- 
grant lindens,  and  cool  groves ;  and  you  have  an  inkling  of  the 
state  of  the  magnificos  of  "  forty-five  "  and  of  the  most  impor- 
tant artery  of  old  Massachusetts  Bay. 

Passing  underneath  the  horse-chestnut,  by  whose  stem  Long- 
fellow has  located  the  village  smithy,  we  ought  to  pause  a 
moment  before  the  long-time  dwelling  of  Judge  Story,  —  a 
plain,  three-story  brick  house,  with  small,  square  upper  win- 
dows, and  veranda  along  its  eastern  front.  This  house  was 
built  about  1800,  and  in  it  Story  died,  and  from  it  he  was 
buried. 

The  old  Judge  was  wont,  they  say,  when  weighty  matters 
occupied  him,  to  take  his  hat  into  his  study,  where  he  remained 
secure  from  intrusion  ;  while  the  servant,  not  seeing  his  head- 
covering  in  its  accustomed  place  in  the  hall,  would  say  to 
comers  of  every  degree  that  he  was  not  at  home. 

"  In  the  summer  afternoons  he  left  his  library  towards  twilight, 
and  might  always  be  seen  by  the  passer-by  sitting  with  his  family 


284      HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

under  the  portico,  talking,  or  reading  some  light  pamphlet  or  news- 
paper ;  oftener  surrounded  by  friends,  and  making  the  air  ring  with 
his  gay  laugh.  This,  with  the  interval  occupied  by  tea,  would  last 
until  nine  o'clock.  Generally,  also,  the  summer  afternoon  was 
varied,  three  or  four  times  a  week  in  fine  weather,  by  a  drive  with 
my  mother  of  about  an  hour  through  the  surrounding  coimtry  in  an 
open  chaise.  At  about  ten  or  half  past  ten  he  retired  for  the  night, 
never  varying  a  half-hour  from  this  time."  * 

William  W.  Story,  the  son  of  Judge  Story,  passed  his  college 
life  in  this  house,  was  married  in  it,  and  here  also  made  his 
first  essays  in  art.  The  beautiful  statue  of  the  jurist  in  the 
chapel  of  Mount  Auburn  is  the  Avork  of  his  son's  hands.  Judge 
Story's  widow  remained  but  a  little  time  in  the  house  after  her 
husband's  decease.  Edward  Tuckerman,  professor  of  botany  at 
Amherst,  lived  here  some  time,  a  bachelor  ;  and  Judge  William 
Kent,  son  of  the  celebrated  chancellor,  resided  here  while  pro- 
fessor in  the  Law  School.  In  his  time  gayety  prevailed  in  the 
old  halls,  often  filled  with  the  elite  of  the  town,  and  sometimes 
distinguished  by  the  presence  of  the  eminent  commentator  him- 
self. In  this  house,  could  we  but  make  its  walls  voluble,  we 
might  wTite  the  annals  of  bench  and  bar.  It  stands  amid  the 
frailer  structures  stanch  as  the  Constitution,  while  its  old-time, 
learned  inhabitant  has  long  since  obeyed  the  summons  of  the 
Supreme  Court  of  last  resort,  where  tliere  is  no  more  conflict 
of  laws. 

Ash  Street  is  the  name  now  given  to  the  old  highway  lead- 
ing to  the  river's  side,  where  formerly  existed  an  eminence 
known  as  Windmill  Hill,  later  the  site  of  Brattle's  bathing- 
house,  from  which  the  way  was  known  as  Bath  Lane.  The 
mill  is  mentioned  as  standing  in  1719,  and,  in  all  probability, 
occupied  the  same  ground  as  the  earlier  mill  of  the  first  plant- 
ers, removed  in  1632  to  Boston,  "because  it  would  not  grind 
but  wdth  a  westerly  wind."  The  firm  ground  extends  here 
quite  to  the  river,  so  that  boats  freighted  with  corn  could 
unload  at  the  mill.  Down  this  lane  of  yore  trudged  many  a 
weary  rustic  with  his  grist  for  the  mill. 

*  Judge  Story's  Memoir,  by  his  son. 


CAMBRIDGE   COMMON    AND   LANDMARKS. 


285 


The  house,  now  the  residence  of  Samuel  Batchelder,  Esq., 
was  built  about  1 700,  and  may  claim  the  respect  due  to  a  hale, 
hearty  old  age.  It  was  originally  of  rough-cast,  filled  in  with 
brick.  The  east  front,  unfortunately  injured  by  fire,  was  re- 
stored to  its  ancient  aspect,  except  that  the  dormer  windows 
of  that  part  have  not  been  replaced.  The  brown  old  mansion 
incloses  three  sides  of  a  square,  and 
oilers  a  much  more  picturesque  view 
from  the  gardens  than  from  the 
street.  (3n  the  west  is  the  court- 
yard and  carriage  entrance,  paved 
with  beach  pebbles,  wliile  the  east 
front  opens  upon  the  spacious 
grounds,  now  somewhat  shrunken 
on  the  side  of  the  highway  by  its 
enlargement.  During  this  improve- 
ment the  low  brick  wall  on  Brattle 
Street,  as  it  now  appears  on  Ash 
Street,  was  taken  down,  and  replaced 

by  one  more  elegant.    The  recessed  area  at  the  back  has  a  cool, 
monastic  look,  with  shade  and  climbing  vines,  —  a  place  for 

meditative  fancies.  The  garden 
is  thickly  studded  with  trees, 
shrubbery,  and  flowers,  as  was 
the  dreary  waste  once  Thomas 
Brattle's,  during  the  time  of  that 
right  wortliy  horticulturist.  At 
the  extremity  of  Mr.  Batchelder's 
garden  remains  of  what  were  be- 
lieved to  have  belonged  to  the 
early  fortifications  were  discovered. 
The  situation  coincides  with  the 
location  as  fixed  by  Rev.  Dr. 
Holmes. 

The  estate  came,  in  1717,  into 
the  possession  of  Jonathan  Belcher 
while  he  was  yet  a  merchant  and  had  not  donned  the  cares  of 


GOVERNOR   BELCHKR. 


286       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

office.     He  was  one  of  the  most  elegant  gentlemen  of  his  time 

in  manners  and  appearance,  —  a  fact  for  which  his  portrait 

will  vouch.     While  governor  he  once  made  a  state  entry  into 

Hampton  Falls,  where   the  Assemblies   of  Massachusetts  Bay 

and  New  Hampshire  were  in  session  on  the  vexatious  question 

of  the  dividing  line  between  the  governments.     We  append 

a  contemporary  pasquinade  on  the  event  :  — 

♦ 
"  Dear  Paddy,  you  ne'er  did  behold  such  a  sight 
As  yesterday  morning  was  seen  before  night. 
You  in  all  your  born  days  saw,  nor  I  did  n't  neither, 
So  many  fine  horses  and  men  ride  together. 
At  the  head  the  lower  house  trotted  two  in  a  row, 
Then  all  the  higher  house  pranc'd  after  the  low; 
Then  the  Governor's  coach  gallop'd  on  like  the  wind. 
And  the  last  that  came  foremost  were  troopers  behind  ; 
But  I  fear  it  means  no  good  to  your  neck  nor  mine, 
For  they  say  't  is  to  fix  a  right  place  for  the  line." 

The  mansion  afterwards  became  the  property  of  Colonel  John 
Vassall,  the  elder,  whose  sculptured  tombstone  we  have  seen  in 
the  old  churchyard.  This  gentleman  conveys  the  estate  (of 
seven  acres)  to  his  brother.  Major  Henry,  an  officer  in  the 
militia,  who  died  in  this  house  in  1769.  The  wife  of  Major 
Vassall,  nee  Penelope  Eoyall,  left  her  home,  at  the  breaking  out 
of  hostilities,  in  such  haste,  it  is  said,  that  she  carried  along 
with  her  a  young  companion,  whom  she  had  not  time  to  re- 
store to  her  friends.  Such  of  her  property  as  was  serviceable 
to  the  Colony  forces  was  given  in  charge  of  Colonel  Stark, 
while  the  rest  was  allowed  to  pass  into  Boston.  The  barns  and 
outbuildings  were  used  for  the  storage  of  the  Colony  forage,  cut 
with  whig  scythes  in  tory  pastures. 

It  is  every  way  likely  that  the  Widow  Vassall's  house  at  once 
became  the  American  hospital,  as  Thaciher  tells  us  it  was  near 
headquarters,  and  no  other  house  was  so  near  as  this.  There 
is  little  doubt  that  it  was  the  residence,  as  it  certainly  was  the 
prison,  of  that  inexplicable  character,  Dr.  Benjamin  Church, 
whose  defection  was  the  first  that  the  cause  of  America  had 
experienced.  Suspicion  fell  upon  Church  before  the  middle  of 
September.     He  was  summoned  to  headquarters  on  the  evening 


CAMBRIDGE   COMMON   AND   LANDMARKS.  287 

of  September  13,  before  a  council  of  the  generals,  where  he 
probably  learned,  for  the  first  time,  that  he  was  the  object  of 
distrust.  When  questioned  by  Washington  he  appeared  utterly 
confounded,  and  made  no  attempt  to  vindicate  himself 

A  treasonable  letter,  written  in  cipher,  which  he  was  attempt- 
ing to  send  to  his  brother  in  Boston,  by  the  hands  of  his  mis- 
tress, was  intercepted,  and  disclosed  Church's  perfidy.  The 
letter  itself,  when  deciphered,  did  not  contain  any  intelligence 
of  importance,  but  the  discovery  that  one  until  then  so  high  in 
the  esteem  of  his  countrjTnen  was  engaged  in  a  clandestine  cor- 
respondence with  the  enemy  was  deemed  sufficient  evidence 
of  guilt.  He  was  arrested  and  confined  in  a  chamber  looking 
upon  Brattle  Street.  The  middle  window  in  the  second  story 
will  indicate  the  apartment  of  his  detention,  in  which  he  em- 
ployed some  of  his  leisure  in  cutting  on  the  door  of  a  closet, 

"  B  Church  jr  " 
There  the  marks  now  remain,  their  significance  awaiting  a 
recent  interpretation  by  Mrs.  James,  to  whom  they  were  long 
familiar,  without  suspicion  of  their  origin.  The  chamber  has 
two  windows  in  the  north  front,  and  two  overlooking  the  area 
on  the  south. 

The  doctor  was  called  before  a  council  of  war,  consisting  of 
all  the  major-generals  and  brigadiers  of  the  army,  besides  the 
adjutant-general.  General  Washington  presiding.  This  tribunal 
decided  his  acts  to  have  been  criminal,  but  remanded  him  for 
the  decision  of  the  General  Court,  of  which  he  was  a  member. 
He  was  taken  in  a  chaise,  escorted  by  General  Gates  and  a 
guard  of  twenty  men,  to  the  music  of  a  fife  and  drum,  to 
Watertown  meeting-house,  where  the  court  sat.  It  would  be 
difficult  to  produce  a  more  remarkable  instance  of  special  plead- 
ing than  Church's  defence.  The  galleries  were  thronged  with 
people  of  all  ranks.  The  bar  was  placed  in  the  middle  of  the 
broad  aisle,  and  the  Doctor  arraigned.  He  was  adjudged  guilty 
and  expelled.  His  subsequent  confinement  by  order  of  the 
Continental  Congress,  his  permission  to  depart  the  country, 
and  his  mysterious  fate  are  matters  of  history. 

A  letter  from  Dr.  Church's  brother,  to  which  the  treasonable 


288       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS   OF  MIDDLESEX. 

document  was  a  reply,  contains  the  following  among  other  re- 
markable passages,  —  it  refers  to  Bunker  Hill  :  — 

"  What  says  the  psalm-siiiger  and  Johnny  Dupe  to  fighting 
British  troops  now  ?  They  are  at  Philadelphia,  I  suppose  plotting 
more  mischief,  where  I  hear  your  High  Mightiness  has  been  Ambas- 
sador extraordinary  :  take  care  of  your  nob,  Mr.  Doctor  ;  remember 
your  old  friend,  the  orator ;  *  he  will  preach  no  more  sedition." 

What  Paul  Revere  says,  together  with  other  corroborative 
evidence,  leaves  but  little  doubt  that  Dr.  Church  was  in  the 
pay  of  General  Gage.  Revere's  account  is,  in  part,  as  fol- 
lows :  — 

"  The  same  day  I  met  Dr.  Warren.  He  was  president  of  the 
Committee  of  Safety.  He  engaged  me  as  a  messenger  to  do  the  out 
of  doors  business  for  that  committee  ;  which  gave  me  an  opportunity 
of  being  frequently  with  them.  The  Friday  evening  after,  about 
sunset,  I  was  sitting  with  some,  or  near  all  that  committee  in  their 
room,  which  was  at  Mr.  Hastings's  house  in  Cambridge.  Dr. 
Church  all  at  once  started  up.  '  Dr.  Warren,'  said  he,  '  I  am  deter- 
mined to  go  into  Boston  to-morrow.'  (It  set  them  all  a  staring.) 
Dr.  Warren  replied,  '  Are  you  serious,  Dr.  Church  1  They  will  hang 
you  if  they  catch  you  in  Boston,'  He  replied,  *  I  am  serious,  and 
am  determined  to  go  at  all  adventures.'  After  a  considerable  con- 
versation Dr.  Warren  said,  '  If  you  are  determined,  let  us  make 
some  business  for  you.'  They  agreed  that  he  shoidd  go  to  get  medi- 
cine for  their  and  our  wounded  officers." 

*  Waxren. 


HEADQUARTERS   OF  THE  ARMY,  289 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

HEADQUARTERS    OF    THE    ARMY. 

"  Somewhat  back  from  the  village  street 
Stands  the  old-fashioned  country-seat." 

EXCEPT  Mount  Vernon,  the  shrine  at  which  every  Amer- 
ican means  some  day  to  render  homage,  the  house  now 
the  residence  of  Mr.  Longfellow  is  probably  the  best  known  of 
any  in  our  country.  It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  the  foot- 
steps of  many  pilgrims  stray  within  the  pleasant  enclosure. 
The  house  has  often  been  described,  and  is  an  object  familiar 
to  thousands  who  have  visited  it,  and  who  would  regret  its 
disappearance  as  a  public  misfortune. 

A  score  of  years  gone  by  the  writer  accompanied  a  gentleman 
from  a  distant  State,  then  accredited  to  a  foreign  court,  to  view 
the  historic  localities  of  Old  Cambridge,  "  Ah  !  "  said  the 
visitor,  as  we  paused  before  this  mansion,  "  there  is  no  need  to 
account  for  the  poet's  inspiration."  Be  it  our  task,  then,  after 
repeating  something  of  its  history,  to  stand  at  the  entrance  door, 
and,  like  Seneschal  of  old,  announce  in  succession  those  who 
claim  our  service  in  the  name  of  master  of  the  historic  edifice. 

Standing  at  some  distance  back  from  the  street,  the  mansion 
is  in  the  style  of  an  English  country  house  of  a  hundred  and 
fifty  years  ago.  It  is  built  of  wood  without,  walled  up  with 
brick  within,  giving  strength  to  the  building  and  comfort  to  its 
inhabitants. 

The  approach  is  by  a  walk  rising  over  two  slight  terraces  by 
successive  flights  of  sandstone  steps.  The  first  of  these  terraces 
is  bordered  by  a  neat  wooden  balustrade.  Four  pilasters  with 
Corinthian  capitals  ornament  the  front  of  the  mansion  ;  one 
standing  at  each  side  of  the  entrance,  while  others  relieve  the 
corners.     A  pediment  raised  above  the  line  of  the  cornice  rests 

13  8 


290       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF  MIDDLESEX. 

upon  the  central  pilasters,  and  gives  character  to  the  design. 
A  dormer  window  jutting  out  on  either  side  of  the  pediment, 
a  pair  of  substantial  chimneys,  and  a  balustrade  at  the  summit 
of  the  roof  complete  the  external  aspects  of  the  house.  The 
verandas  seen  on  either  side  are  the  taste  of  a  modern  pro- 
prietor. Yellow  and  white,  the  poet's  colors,  are  the  outward 
dress  which  has  been  applied  to  this  house  since  a  time  when 
the  memory  of  man  runneth  not  to  the  contrary. 

One  day  we  stood  on  the  broad  stone  slab  before  this  door. 
AYe  had  time  to  mark  the  huge  brass  knocker  which  seemed  to 
court  a  giant's  grasp,  but,  0  Vulcan  !  what  a  lock  was  its  fellow 
on  the  other  side.  The  key  might  have  been  forged  at  the 
smithy  of  a  Cyclop,  and  would  have  done  no  discredit  to  the 
girdle  of  the  keeper  of  the  Bastile  or  of  the  White  Tower. 

It  was  probably  the  poet's  mental  stature  that  made  us  ex- 
pect to  see  a  taller  man.  His  handsome  white  hair,  worn  long  ; 
his  beard,  which  threescore  and  six  completed  years  have 
blanched,  gave  him  a  venerable  appearance  by  no  means  con- 
sistent with  his  mental  and  bodily  activity.  A  warm,  even 
ruddy  complexion  ;  an  eye  bright  and  expressive  ;  a  genial 
smile,  which  at  once  allays  any  well-founded  doubts  the  in- 
truder might  entertain  of  his  reception,  make  Mr.  Longfellow's 
a  countenance  to  be  remembered.  Looking  into  that  face,  we 
felt  at  no  loss  to  account  for  the  beauty,  purity,  and  high  moral 
tone  which  pervade  the  poet's  productions. 

An  apparent  aroma  of  fragrant  tobacco  indicated  that,  like 
Tennyson,  our  host  found  solace  in  the  weed.  The  large  front 
room,  one  of  four  into  which  the  first  floor  is  divided,  and 
which  opens  at  your  right  hand  as  you  enter  the  hall,  is  re- 
served by  the  poet  for  his  study,  and  liere,  among  his  books, 
antique  busts,  and  other  literary  paraphernalia,  the  magician 
weaves  his  spell. 

The  windows  look  upon  the  lawn  and  walk  by  which  you 
approach  the  house.  The  grounds  are  embellished  with  shrub- 
bery and  dominated  by  some  fine  old  elms  ;  but  the  eye  is  soon 
engaged  with,  and  lingers  on,  the  broad  expanse  of  meadow 
through  which  the  river  winds   unseen,   and   whose   distant 


HEADQUARTERS   OF  THE   ARMY.  291 

margin  is  fringed  witli  the  steeples  and  house-tops  of  Brighton. 
Beyond  are  the  rounded  hills  and  pleasant  dales  of  Brookline, 
and  from  the  upper  windows  you  may  see,  on  a  clear  day,  the 
blue  masses  of  Milton  Hills.  Thus  it  looked  to  the  early  pro- 
prietor and  to  Washington,  and  thus  the  present  occupant,  by 
the  recovery  of  a  large  portion  of  the  original  acres,  perpetuates 
at  once  dwelling  and  landscape. 

Lighting  a  taper,  our  host  first  led  the  way  to  the  cellars, 
with  timely  caution  to  take  heed  of  the  solid  timbers  overhead, 
as  we  descended  the  stairs.  He  made  us  remark  the  thickness 
of  these  beams  and  of  the  outer  walls  of  the  building  proper. 
In  extent  and  loftiness  these  cellars  were  not  unworthy  some 
old  convent  in  which  many  a  butt  of  good  Rhenish  —  unless 
•we  do  them  foul  wrong  —  has  consoled  the  jolly  friars  for  days 
of  mortification  in  downright  bacchanalian  wassail.  We  passed 
beneath  arches  where  light  was  never  meant  to  enter,  for  fear 
of  offending  the  deep,  rich  glow  of  the  port,  or  the  pale  lustre 
of  the  Madeira,  —  recesses  out  of  which  we  almost  expected  to 
see  the  phantom  of  the  Colonial  proprietor  appear  and  challenge 
our  footsteps. 

The  house  is  spacious  and  elegant  throughout.  From  the 
hall  of  entrance  the  staircase  winds  to  the  upper  floor,  giving 
an  idea  of  loftiness  such  as  you  experience  in  looking  up  at  the 
vault  of  a  church.  The  principles  of  ventilation  were  respected 
by  the  builder  in  a  manner  which  savors  strongly  of  a  West- 
Indian  life.  ISTot  a  sign  of  weakness  or  decay  is  apparent  in 
the  woodwork ;  wainscots,  panels,  capitals,  and  cornices  are 
in  excellent  taste  and  skilfully  executed. 

The  old  proprietor's  farm,  for  such  it  was,  at  first  consisted 
of  a  hundred  and  fifty  acres  or  more.  The  Sewall  mansion, 
now  that  of  John  Brewster,  Esq.,  was  then  the  nearest  on  that 
side,  and  at  the  back  the  grounds  embraced  the  site  of  the  Ob- 
servatory, where  formerly  stood  a  summer-house.  From  this 
hill  the  waters  of  a  spring  were  conducted  to  the  house  by  an 
aqueduct,  still  visible  where  it  entered  the  foundation-wall. 
The  greenhouses  were  formerly  on  the  spot  where  the  new  dor- 
mitory is  now  being  erected ;  the  capacious  barn  is  still  stand- 


292        HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

ing  on  the  west  side  of  the  house.  Nothing  seems  to  have 
been  wanting  to  render  the  estate  complete  in  all  its  appoint- 
ments. 

The  house  was  probably  erected  in  1759  by  Colonel  John 
Vassall,  the  same  at  whose  tomb  we  have  paid  a  passing  visit. 
His  family  was  a  distinguished  one,  both  in  Old  and  New 
England.  In  King's  Cliapel,  Boston,  the  visitor  may  see  a 
beautiful  mural  monument,  commemorative  of  the  virtues,  loy- 
alty, and  sufferings  of  Samuel  Vassall,  a  member,  and  one  of 
the  Assistants,  of  the  Massachusetts  Company.  The  escutcheon 
displays  the  same  emblems  as  the  horizontal  slab  in  Cambridge 
churchyard.  The  crest  is  a  ship  with  the  sails  furled,  adopted, 
no  doubt,  to  honor  the  services  of  that  brave  John  Vassall  who 
fought  with  Howard,  Drake,  and  Hawkins,  against  the  armada 
of  Philip  11.  The  Vassalls  were  from  Cambridge  in  Old  Eng- 
land. 

There  could  be  no  fitter  name  for  so  stanch  a  loyalist  as  Col- 
onel John  Vassall.  It  is  said  he  would  not  use  on  his  arms  the 
family  device,  "  Scepe  pro  rege,  .semper  jwo  repuhlica.^'  He 
took  an  active  part  against  the  whigs  in  the  struggles  prelimi- 
nary to  active  hostilities,  and  early  in  1775  became  a  fugitive 
under  the  protection  of  the  royal  standard.  In  Boston  he  occu- 
pied the  time-honored  mansion  of  the  Faneuils,  where  he,  no 
doubt,  often  saw  his  fellow-tories  assembled  around  his  board. 
His  Cambridge  and  Boston  estates  were  both  confiscated,  and 
not  the  least  curious  of  the  freaks  which  fortune  played  in  those 
troublous  times  was  the  occupation  of  the  first-named  house  by 
Washington,  while  that  of  William  Vassall,  in  Boston,  after- 
wards the  residence  of  Gardiner  Greene,  was  for  some  time  the 
lodgings  of  Sir  William  Howe,  and  also  of  Earl  Percy.  Col- 
onel Vassall  retired  to  England,  where  he  died  in  1797,  after 
eating  a  hearty  dinner. 

Having  witnessed  the  hurried  exit  of  the  first  proprietor,  it 
becomes  our  duty  to  throw  wide  the  portal  and  admit  a  bat- 
talion of  Colonel  elohn  Glover's  amphibious  Marblehead  regi- 
ment. As  the  royalist  went  out  the  republicans  came  in,  and 
the  halls  of  the  haughty  tory  resounded  with  merriment  or 


HEADQUARTERS    OF   THE   ARMY.  293 

echoed  to  the  tread  of  many  feet.  Colonel  John  the  first  gave 
place  to  Colonel  John  the  second.  Truth  compels  us  to  add 
that  the  man  of  Marblehead  has  left  a  more  enduring  record 
than  the  marble  of  the  Vassall. 

The  little  colonel,  though  small  in  stature,  was  as  brave  as 
Csesar.  His  patriotism  was  full  proof.  Besides  his  service  at 
the  siege  of  Boston,  his  regiment  brought  off  the  army  in  safety 
after  the  disastrous  affair  of  Long  Island,  where  they  showed 
that  they  could  handle  ashen  as  well  as  steel  blades.  He  was 
a  great  favorite  with  Lee,  with  whom  he  served  two  campaigns. 
It  was  Glover  who,  after  the  CA^er-memorable  passage  of  the 
Delaware,  made  the  discovery  that  the  thickly  falling  sleet  had 
rendered  the  fire-arms  useless.  Meaning  glances  were  exchanged 
among  the  little  group  who  heard  the  ill-omened  announce- 
ment. "  What  is  to  be  done  1 "  exclaimed  Sullivan.  "  Nothing 
is  left  you  but  to  push  on  and  charge,"  rephed  St.  Clair,  Sul- 
livan, still  doubtful,  sent  Colonel  William  Smith,  one  of  his 
aids,  to  inform  General  Washington  of  the  state  of  his  troops, 
and  that  he  could  depend  upon  nothing  but  the  bayonet. 
General  Washington  replied  to  Colonel  Smith  in  a  voice  of 
thunder,  "  Go  back,  sir,  immediately,  and  tell  General  Sullivan 
to  go  OH  !  "  Colonel  Smith  said  he  never  saw  a  face  so  awfully 
subHme  as  Washington's  when  he  spoke  these  words. 

Knox,  whose  superhuman  efforts  on  that  night  to  get  his  ar- 
tillery across  the  Delaware  entitle  him  to  lasting  praise,  pays 
this  tribute  to  the  brave  men  of  Glover's  command  :  — 

"  I  could  wish  that  they  [he  was  speaking  to  the  Massachusetts 
Legislature]  had  stood  on  the  banks  of  the  Delaware  River  in  1776, 
on  that  bitter  night  when  the  commander-in-chief  had  drawn  up  his 
little  army  to  cross  it,  and  had  seen  the  powerful  current  bearing 
onward  the  floating  masses  of  ice  which  threatened  destruction  to 
whosoever  should  venture  upon  its  bosom.  I  wish  that,  when  this 
occurrence  threatened  to  defeat  the  enterprise,  they  could  have 
heard  that  distinguished  warrior  demand,  '  Who  iinll  lead  us  on?' 
and  seen  the  men  of  Marblehead,  and  Marblehead  alone,  stand  for- 
ward to  lead  the  army  along  its  perilous  path  to  unfading  glories 
and  honors  in  the  achievements  of  Trenton." 


294      HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

Glover  was  himself  a  fisherman  and  wore  a  short  round- 
jacket  like  his  men.  Two  of  his  captains,  John  Selman  and 
]S"icholson  Broughton,  engaged  in  the  first  naval  expedition 
of  the  Ee volution.  A  third,  William  Eaymond  Lee,  finally 
became  Glover's  successor  in  the  command  of  the  regiment. 
Glover  had  been  out  with  the  Marblehead  militia  when  Leslie 
attempted  to  force  his  way  into  Salem.  The  regiment  reported 
to  General  Ward  on  the  22d  of  June,  1775. 

Graydon,  whose  illiberal  and  sweeping  abuse  of  the  Xew 
England  troops  renders  his  praise  the  more  remarkable,  makes 
an  exception  in  favor  of  Glover's  regiment,  which  he  saw  in 
New  York  in  1776.     He  says  :  — 

"  The  only  exception  I  recollect  to  have  seen  to  these  miserably 
constituted  bands  from  New  England  was  the  regiment  of  Glover 
from  Marblehead.  There  was  an  appearance  of  discipline  in  this 
corps  ;  the  officers  seemed  to  have  mixed  with  the  world,  and  to  un- 
derstand what  belonged  to  their  station.  But  even  in  this  regiment 
there  were  a  number  of  negroes,  which,  to  persons  unaccustomed  to 
such  associations,  had  a  disagreeable,  degrading  effect." 

Glover  served  in  the  Northern  army  in  the  campaign  against 
Burgoyne.  He  commanded  the  troops  drawn  up  to  receive  the 
surrender,  and,  with  AYhipple,  escorted  the  forces  of  the  Con- 
vention to  Cambridge.  An  excellent  disciplinarian,  his  regi- 
ment was  one  of  the  best  in  the  army.  But  the  Provincial 
Congress  has  ordered  the  house  cleared  for  a  more  illustrious 
tenant,  and  our  sturdy  men  of  Essex  must  seek  another  loca- 
tion. On  the  7th  of  July  they  received  orders  to  encamp.  In 
February,  1776,  the  regimental  headquarters  were  at  Brown's 
tavern,  while  the  regiment  itself  lay  encamped  in  an  enclosed 
pasture  to  the  north  of  the  Colleges. 

From  the  records  of  the  Provincial  Congress  we  learn  that 
Joseph  Smith  was  the  custodian  of  the  Vassall  farm,  which  fur- 
nished considerable  supplies  of  forage  for  our  army.  It  was  at 
the  time  when  the  haymakers  were  busy  in  the  royalist's  mead- 
ows that  Washington,  entering  Cambridge  with  his  retinue,  first 
had  his  attention  fixed  by  the  mansion  which  for  more  |han 
eiirht  months  became  his  residence. 


HEADQUARTERS    OF   THE   ARMY. 


295 


"Once,  ah  !  once,  within  these  walls, 
One  whom  memory  oft  recalls, 
The  father  of  his  country  dwelt ; 
And  yonder  meadows  broad  and  damp, 
The  fires  of  the  besieging  camp 
Encircled  with  a  burning  belt. " 

Washington  probably  took  possession  of  this  house  before 
the  middle  of  July,  as  he  himself  records,  under  date  of  July 
15,  that  he  paid  for  cleansing  the  premises  assigned  him,  which 
had  been  occupied  by  the  Marblehead  regiment.  The  Com- 
mittee of  Safety  had  ordered  it  vacated  early  in  May  for  their 
own  use,  but  there 
is  no  evidence 
that  they  ever  sat 
there. 

Whatever  re- 
lates to  the  per- 
sonality of  Wash- 
ington will  re- 
main a  matter 
of  interest  to  the 
latest  times.  The 
pencils  of  the 
Peales,  of  Trum- 
bull, Stuart,  of 
Wertmiiller,  and 
others  have  de- 
picted him  in  ear- 
ly manhood,  in 
mature  age,  and 
the  decline  of  life; 
while  the  chisel  of 
a  Canova,  a  Houdon,  and  a  Chantrey  have  familiarized  Ameri- 
cans with  his  commanding  figure  and  noble  cast  of  featiu'es  :  — 


BALLb    WASHlNcrON    STATUE 


"  A  combination  and  a  form  indeed, 
Where  every  god  did  seem  to  set  his  seal 
To  give  the  world  assurance  of  a  man," 


296       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

One  of  Eochain"beau's  generals  has  left  by  far  the  most  satis- 
factory account  of  Washington's  outward  man  :  — 

"His  stature  is  noble  and  lofty,  he  is  well  made  and  exactly 
proportioned  ;  his  physiognomy  mild  and  agreeable,  but  such  as  to 
render  it  impossible  to  speak  particularly  of  any  of  his  features,  so 
that  in  quitting  him  you  have  only  the  recollection  of  a  fine  face. 
He  has  neither  a  grave  nor  a  familiar  air,  his  brow  is  sometimes 
marked  with  thought,  but  never  with  inquietude  ;  in  inspiring  re- 
spect he  inspires  confidence,  and  his  smile  is  always  the  smile  of 
benevolence." 

Says  another  :  — 

"  With  a  person  six  feet  two  inches  in  stature,  expanded,  muscular, 
of  elegant  proportions  and  unusually  graceful  in  all  its  movements, 
—  his  head  moulded  somewhat  on  the  model  of  the  Grecian  an- 
tique ;  features  suflaciently  prominent  for  strength  or  comeliness,  — 
a  Koman  nose  and  large  blue  eyes  deeply  thoughtful  rather  than 
lively,  —  with  these  attributes  the  appearance  of  Washington  was 
striking  and  august.  Of  a  fine  complexion,  he  was  accounted  when 
young  one  of  the  handsomest  of  men." 

That  Washington  wore  his  famous  blue  and  buff  uniform  on 
his  arrival  at  Cambridge  there  can  be  as  little  doubt  as  that  he 
appeared  in  his  seat  in  Congress  in  this  garb  ;  and,  as  these 
became  the  colors  of  the  famed  Continental  army,  their  origin 
becomes  a  subject  of  inquiry. 

The  portrait  of  the  elder  Peale,  painted  in  1772,  represents 
Washington  in  the  uniform  of  the  provincial  troops,  which,  for 
good  cause,  was  varied  from  that  of  the  British  line.  In  the 
former  corps  the  coat  was  blue  faced  with  crimson,  in  the  lat- 
ter scarlet  faced  with  blue,  —  colors  which  had  been  worn  since 
their  adoption  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Anne.  To  continue  Peale's 
delineation  of  Colonel  Washington's  uniform,  the  coat  and  waist- 
coat, out  of  which  is  seen  protruding  the  "  order  of  march," 
are  both  edged  with  silver  lace,  with  buttons  of  white  metal. 
An  embroidered  lilac-colored  scarf  falls  from  the  left  shoulder 
across  the  breast  and  is  knotted  at  the  right  hip,  while  sus- 
pended by  a  blue  ribbon  from  his  neck  is  the  gorget  bearing 
the  arms  of  Virginia,  then  and  afterwards  a  distinctive  emblem, 


HEADQUARTERS    OF   THE   ARMY.  297 

as  the  fusee  he  carries  by  a  sling  was  the  companion  of  every 
officer.  This  was  the  very  dress  he  wore  on  the  day  of  Brad- 
dock's  signal  defeat. 

Blue  —  than  which  no  color  can  be  more  soldierly  —  had  its 
precedent,  not  only  in  the  British  Horse  Guards,  but  in  the 
French  and  other  armies  of  Continental  Europe.  It  is  to 
Sweden,  however,  that  we  must  look  for  the  origin  of  the  cele- 
brated blue  and  buff,  as  we  find  the  Eoyal  Swedes  wearing  it 
as  early  as  1715.  In  1789  they  were  attired  in  the  very  cos- 
tume of  the  Continentals. 

The  General  wore  rich  epaulettes  and  an  elegant  small  sword. 
He  also  carried  habitually  a  pair  of  screw-barrelled,  silver- 
mounted  pistols,  with  a  dog's  head  carved  on  the  handle.  It 
also  appears  that  he  sometimes  wore  the  light-blue  ribbon  across 
his  breast,  between  coat  and  waistcoat,  which  is  seen  in  Peale's 
portrait  painted  for  Louis  XYI.  This  badge,  which  gave  rise 
to  the  mistaken  idea  that  Washington  was  a  Marshal  of  France, 
was  worn  in  consequence  of  an  order  issued  in  July,  1775,  to 
make  the  persons  of  the  generals  known  to  the  army.  By  the 
same  order  the  major  and  brigadier  generals  were  to  wear  pink 
ribbons,  and  the  aides-de-camp  green.  An  old  print  of  General 
Putnam  exhibits  this  peculiarity.  Cockades  of  different  colors 
were  assigned  by  orders  in  1776  as  distinguishing  badges  for 
officers. 

Peale's  portrait  of  Colonel  Washington,  together  with  other 
valuable  paintings  at  Arlington  House,  were  removed  by  Mrs. 
Lee  when  she  left  her  residence  in  May,  1861.  Although  con- 
siderably injured  by  the  rough  usage  of  war  times,  every  lover 
of  art  will  be  glad  to  know  that  they  have  been  preserved.  The 
gorget  which  has  been  mentioned  as  having  been  worn  by 
Washington  when  he  sat  to  the  elder  Peale  is  now  preserved 
as  a  precious  relic  in  the  Quincy  family,  of  Boston.  A  pair  of 
epaulettes  worn  by  the  General  at  Yorktown,  together  witli 
some  other  mementos,  are  in  the  cabinets  of  the  Massachusetts 
Historical  Society. 

The  commander-in-chief,  upon  taking  possession  of  his  head-  * 
quarters,  selected  the  southeast  chamber  for  his  sleeping-apart- 
13* 


298       HISTOEIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

ment.  What  vigils  he  kept  here  in  the  silent  watches  of  the 
night,  what  invocations  were  made  for  Providential  aid  and 
guidance,  when,  escaping  from  the  sight  of  men,  he  unbosomed 
himself  and  bowed  down  beneath  the  weight  of  his  responsi- 
bilities, the  walls  alone  might  tell. 

"  Yes,  within  this  very  room, 
Sat  he  in  those  hours  of  gloom, 
Weary  both  in  heart  and  head." 

Washington  was  very  exact  in  his  habits.  It  is  said  he 
always  shaved,  dressed  himself,  summer  and  winter,  and  an- 
swered his  letters  by  candle-light.  Nine  o'clock  was  his  hour 
for  retiring. 

The  front  room  underneath  the  chamber,  already  mentioned 
as  the  poet's  study,  was  appropriated  by  the  General  for  a  simi- 
lar purpose.  This  opens  at  the  rear  into  the  library,  an  apart- 
ment occupied  in  the  day  of  the  great  Virginian  by  his  military 
family.  In  the  study  the  ample  autograph  was  appended  to 
letters  and  orders  that  have  formed  the  framework  for  contem- 
porary history  ;  the  march  of  Arnold  to  Quebec,  the  new  or- 
ganization of  the  Continental  army,  the  occupation  of  Dorches- 
ter Heights,  and  the  simple  but  graphic  expression  of  the  final 
triumph  of  patient  endurance  in  the  following  order  of  the 
day:  — 

"  Head  Quarters,  17th  March  1776. 
"  Parole  Boston.    Countersign  St.  Patrick." 

"  The  regiments  under  marching  orders  to  march  to-morrow 
morning.     Brigadier  of  the  Day,  General  Sullivan. 

"  By  His  Excellency's  Command." 

Here,  too,  our  General  rose  to  his  full  stature  when,  in  his 
famous  letter  to  General  Gage,  he  gave  utterance  to  the  feelings 
of  honest  resentment  called  forth  by  the  supercilious  declara- 
tions of  that  officer  in  language  which  must  have  stung  the 
Briton  to  the  quick  :  — 

"You  affect,  sir,  to  despise  all  rank  not  derived  from  the  same 
.source  with  your  own.  I  cannot  conceive  one  more  honorable  than 
that  which  flows  from  the  uncorrupted  choice  of  a  brave  and  free 
people,  —  the  purest  source  and  original  foimtain  of  all  power." 


HEADQUARTERS    OF   THE   ARMY.  299 

lN"apoleon,  when  in  exile  at  St.  Helena,  remarked  to  an 
Englislunan  while  arguing  against  the  foolish  attempt  to  make 
him  relinquish  the  title  of  Emperor,  "  Your  nation  called  Wash- 
ington a  leader  of  rebels  for  a  long  time,  and  refused  to  acknowl- 
edge either  him  or  the  constitution  of  his  country;  but  his 
successes  obliged  them  to  change  and  acknowledge  both." 

The  phrase  of  "  military  family,"  in  which  was  included  the 
entire  staff  of  the  General,  originated  in  the  British  army.  The 
custom  of  embracing  the  suite  of  a  general  in  his  household, 
and  of  constituting  them  in  effect  members  of  his  family,  was 
not  practised  in  the  armies  of  Continental  Europe.  Washing- 
ton was  fortunately  able  to  support  the  charge  of  this  practice, 
as  well  as  to  control  the  incongruous  elements  sometunes 
grouped  about  his  person.  Of  his  first  staff.  Gates,  the  head, 
became  soured,  and,  fancying  his  position  far  beneath  his  merits, 
a  restraint  soon  appeared  in  his  demeanor.  Mifflin,  the  first 
aid,  afterwards  governor  of  Pennsylvania,  became  involved  in 
the  Conway  cabal ;  and  Eeed,  the  General's  secretary  and  most 
trusted  friend,  became  at  one  time  so  doubtful  of  the  success  of 
the  American  arms,  that  he  is  said  to  have  received  a  British  pro- 
tection. But  Reed's  patriotism  was  proof  against  a  most  artful 
attempt  to  bribe  liim  through  the  agency  of  a  beautiful  woman. 
When  assured  of  her  purpose,  he  addressed  her  in  these  words  : 
"  I  am  not  worth  purchasing,  but  such  as  I  am,  the  king  of 
Great  Britain  is  not  rich  enough  to  do  it." 

Trumbull,  the  painter,  who  was  made  an  aid  in  the  early 
days  of  the  siege,  confesses  his  inability  to  sustain  the  exigencies 
of  his  position.  He  relates  that  the  scene  at  headquarters  was 
altogether  new  and  strange  to  him. 

"  I  now,"  he  says,  "  found  myself  in  the  family  of  one  of  the  most 
distinguished  men  of  the  age,  surrounded  at  his  table  by  the  princi- 
pal officers  of  the  army,  and  in  constant  mtercourse  with  them  ;  it 
was  further  my  duty  to  receive  company  and  do  the  honors  of  the 
house  to  many  of  the  first  people  of  the  country  of  both  sexes.  I 
soon  found  myself  unequal  to  the  elegant  duties  of  my  situation,  and 
was  gratified  when  Mr.  Edmund  Randolph  (afterwards  Secretary  of 
State)  and  Mr.  Baylor  arrived  from  Virginia,  aud  were  named  aids- 
du-camp,  to  succeed  Mr.  Mifflin  and  myself." 


300       HISTOEIC   FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

George  Baylor,  who  "Washington  said  was  no  penman,  hav- 
ing expressed  a  desire  to  go  into  the  artillery  with  Knox,  the 
General  appointed  Moylan  and  Palfrey  to  fill  the  places  of  the 
former  and  of  Eandolph,  who  was  obliged  to  leave  Cambridge 
suddenly  on  his  own  affairs.  Baylor  is  the  same  officer  who, 
as  colonel  of  dragoons,  was  surprised  and  made  prisoner  by 
General  Grey  at  Tappan,  with  the  loss  of  the  greater  part  of 
his  men  inhumanly  butchered  while  demanding  quarter.  Moy- 
lan, a  gay,  rollicking  Irishman,  was  appointed  commissary-gen- 
eral, —  a  place  he  soon  left  for  the  line.  Harrison,  who  succeeded 
Eeed  as  secretary,  lacked  grasp  for  his  multifarious  duties, 
though  he  continued  in  the  staff  until  1781.  David  Hum- 
phreys, the  soldier-poet,  was,  for  his  gallantry  at  Yorktown, 
selected  to  carry  the  captured  standards  to  Congress,  as  Baylor 
had  carried  the  news  of  victory  at  Trenton,  —  Humphreys  had 
first  been  aid  to  Putnam.  Alexander  Hamilton,  who  served 
Washington  as  a  member  of  his  military  family  with  singular 
ability,  left  the  General  in  anger  on  account  of  a  scolding  he 
had  received  from  him  for  some  delay  in  sending  off  despatches 
at  Yorktown.  Tench  Tilghman  was  a  dashing  cavaUer  and 
an  excellent  scribe.  He  served  Washington  nearly  five  years, 
during  which  he  was  in  every  action  in  which  the  main 
army  was  engaged.  General  Lloyd  Tilghman,  a  descendant, 
who  fought  on  the  Confederate  side  in  the  late  war,  was  cap- 
tured at  Fort  Henry,  and  confined  for  some  time  at  Fort  War- 
ren, in  Boston  harbor.  At  the  festival  of  the  Society  of  the 
Cincinnati  in  1872,  a  representative  of  the  Patriot  officer 


was 


present. 

While  loitering  in  the  apartments  devoted  to  official  business, 
it  may  not  be  uninteresting  to  refer  to  the  chirography  of  the 
leaders  of  the  Continental  army,  most  of  whom  handled  the 
sword  and  pen  equally  well.  Washington's  ,  characters  were 
large,  round,  and  never  appear  to  have  been  penned  in  haste. 
Knox  wrote  indifferently  when  he  entered  the  army,  but  his 
hand  soon  became  straggling  and  difficult  to  decipher,  his  mind 
being  so  much  more  active  than  his  pen  that  his  MS.  is  filled 
with  interlineations.    Greene  wrote  a  fair,  clear,  running-hand  ; 


HEADQUARTERS    OF   THE   ARMY.  301 

his  language  couched  in  good,  terse  phrase.  Wayne,  far  from 
heing  the  boor  that  Andre's  epic  makes  him,  not  only  held  a 
fluent,  but  a  graphic  pen,  as  witness  his  despatch  :  — 

"  Stoney  Point,  16t.h  July,  1779,  —2  o'clock,  a.  m. 
"  Dear  General, — The  fort  and  garrison,  with  Colonel  Johnston, 
are  ours.     Our  officers  and  men  behaved  like  men  who  are  deter- 
mined to  be  free.     Yours  most  sincerely, 

"  Ant^  Wayne." 

Gates  wrote  a  handsome,  round  hand  ;  so  did  Schuyler,  St. 
Clair,  Sullivan,  and  Stirling.  Lee  took  rather  more  care  of  his 
handwriting  than  of  his  dress  ;  his  characters  are  bold  and 
legible.  Lafayette  wrote  like  a  Frenchman.  Steuben's  and 
Chastellux's  were  rather  an  improvement  on  Lafayette's  diminu- 
tive strokes. 

Whatever  may  be  said  of  Washington's  Fabian  policy,  it  is 
certain  the  pugnacious  element  was  not  wanting  in  his  charac- 
ter. He  wished  to  carry  Boston  by  assault,  but  was  overruled 
by  his  council ;  he  wished  to  hght  at  Germantown,  with  an 
army  just  beaten  ;  and  again  at  Monmouth  against  the  advice 
of  a  council  of  war,  with  Lee  at  its  head.  In  the  latter  battle, 
where  he  was  more  than  half  defeatad,  disaster  became  victory 
under  his  eye  and  voice.  Here  he  is  said  to  have  been  fear- 
fully aroused,  appearing  in  an  unwonted  and  terrible  aspect. 
An  eyewitness  of  one  of  those  rare  but  awful  phenomena,  a 
burst  of  ungovernable  wrath  from  Washington,  related  that  on 
seeing  the  misconduct  of  General  Lee,  he  lost  all  control  of 
himself,  and,  casting  his  hat  to  the  ground,  stamped  upon  it  in 

his  rage. 

"  In  every  heart 
Are  sown  the  sparks  that  kindle  fiery  war  ; 
Occasion  needs  but  fan  them  and  they  blaze." 

This  battle  has  always  reminded  us  of  Marengo,  where  De- 
saix,  arriving  on  the  field  to  fmd  the  French  army  beaten  and 
retreating,  calmly  replied  to  the  question  of  the  First  Consul, 
"  The  battle  is  lost ;  but  it  is  only  two  o'clock,  we  have  time 
to  gain  another."  But  Lee  was  not  Desaix,  and  the  chief,  not 
the  lieutenant,  saved  the  day.  Lafayette  always  said  Washing- 
ton was  superb  at  Monmouth. 


302      HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

Another  incident,  perfectly  authentic,  exhibits  Washington's 
personal  magnetism  and  prowess.  It  is  related  that  one  morn- 
ing Colonel  Glover  came  in  haste  to  headquarters  to  announce 
that  his  men  were  in  a  state  of  mutiny.  On  the  instant  the 
General  arose,  and,  mounting  his  horse,  which  was  always  kept 
ready  saddled,  rode  at  full  gallop  to  the  mutineers'  camp,  ac- 
companied by  Glover  and  Hon.  James  Sullivan.  Washington, 
arrived  on  the  spot,  found  himself  in  presence  of  a  riot  of  seri- 
ous proportions  between  the  Marblehead  fishermen  and  Mor- 
gan's Riflemen.  The  Yankees  ridiculed  the  strange  attire  and 
bizarre  appearance  of  the  Virginians.  Words  were  followed  by 
blows,  until  an  indescribable  uproar,  produced  by  a  thousand 
combatants,  greeted  the  appearance  of  the  General.  He  had 
ordered  his  servant,  Pompey,  to  dismount  and  let  down  the 
bars  which  closed  the  entrance  to  the  camp  ;  this  the  negro  was 
in  the  act  of  doing,  when  the  General,  spurring  his  horse,  leaped 
over  Pompey 's  head,  cleared  the  bars,  and  dashed  among  the 
rioters.  "  The  General  threw  the  bridle  of  his  horse  into  his 
servant's  hands,  and,  rushing  into  the  thickest  of  the  fight, 
seized  two  tall,  brawny  riflemen  by  the  throat,  keeping  them 
at  arm's  length,  talking  to  and  shaking  them."  His  command- 
ing presence  and  gestures,  together  with  the  great  physical 
strength  he  displayed,  —  for  he  held  the  men  he  had  seized  as 
incapable  of  resistance  as  babes,  —  caused  the  angry  soldiers  to 
fall  back  to  the  right  and  left.  Calling  the  officers  around  him, 
with  their  aid  the  riot  was  quickly  suppressed.  The  General, 
after  giving  orders  appropriate  to  prevent  the  recurrence  of 
such  an  aflair,  cantered  away  from  the  field,  leaving  officers  and 
men  alike  astonished  and  charmed  with  what  they  had  wit- 
nessed. "You  have  both  a  Howe  and  a  Clinton  in  your 
army,"  said  a  British  officer  to  a  fair  rebel.  "  Even  so  ;  but 
you  have  no  Washington  in  yours,"  was  the  reply. 

On  the  occasion  when  Colonel  Patterson,  Howe's  adjutant- 
general,  brought  to  Washington  at  New  York  the  letter  ad- 
dressed to  "  George  Washington,  Esq.,  &c.,  &c.,"  an  officer  who 
was  present  at  the  interview  says  his  Excellency  was  very 
handsomely    dressed   and   made    a   most    elegant    appearance. 


HEADQUARTERS    OF   THE   ARMY.  303 

Patterson  appeared  awe-struck,  and  every  other  word  with  him 
was  " may  it  please  your  Excellency,"  or  "if  your  Excellency 
please."  After  considerable  talk  on  the  subject  of  the  letter, 
the  Colonel  asked,  "  Has  your  Excellency  no  particular  com- 
mands with  which  you  would  please  to  honor  me  to  Lord 
and  General  Howe  1"  "  Nothing  but  my  particular  compli- 
ments to  both,"  replied  the  General,  and  the  conference  closed. 

Of  his  generals,  Washington's  relations  with  Knox  were  the 
most  intimate  and  confidential.  Lafayette  fully  shared  in  the 
feelings  of  love  and  veneration  with  which  Knox  regarded  his 
hero.  The  appointment  of  Mad  Anthony  to  command  the 
army  against  the  Northwestern  Indians  showed  that  the  Presi- 
dent had  great  confidence  in  his  courage  and  ability.  Greene 
was  thought  to  have  possessed  greater  influence  in  the  councils 
of  the  general-in-chief  than  any  other  of  his  captains.  None 
other  of  the  superior  officers  appear  to  have  stood  on  as  familiar 
a  footing  as  these.  St.  Clair  was  a  Scotsman,  Montgomery  an 
Irishman,  as  was  also  General  Conway,  while  Lee  and  Gates 
were  Englishmen  by  birth. 

It  is  not  a  little  surprising  that  in  our  republican  army  there 
should  have  been  an  officer  born  on  our  soil  who  not  only 
claimed  the  title  to  an  earldom,  but  also  to  be  addressed  as 
"My  Lord"  by  his  brother  officers.  He  signed  himself  sim- 
ply "  Stirling."  A  bo7i  vivant,  he  was  accused  of  liking  the 
bottle  fully  as  much  as  became  a  lord,  and  more  than  became 
a  general.  On  convivial  occasions  he  was  fond  of  fighting  his 
battles  over. 

One  of  Stirling's  daughters,  Lady  Kitty,  made  a  private  mar- 
riage with  Colonel  William  Duer,  who  acted  so  noble  a  part 
during  the  memorable  cabal  in  Congress  to  elevate  Gates  to  the 
chief  command.  Lady  Kitty  kept  her  secret  so  well  that  even 
her  father's  most  intimate  friends  were  not  informed  of  it,  and 
when  Colonel  Duer  stated  that  he  was  married  he  was  supposed 
to  be  jesting,  until  it  was  announced  that  the  pair  had  passed 
the  night  together  at  the  house  of  a  friend. 

Lafayette  always  kept  a  huge  bowl  of  grog  on  his  table  for 
all  comers.     Despite  his  deep  red  hair,  he  was  one  of  the  finest- 


304      HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

looking  men  in  the  army.  His  forehead  was  good,  though  re- 
ceding ;  his  eyes  hazel  ;  his  mouth  and  chin  delicately  formed, 
exhibiting  "beauty  rather  than  strength.  His  carriage  was 
noble,  his  manner  frank  and  winning.  He  never  wore  powder, 
but  in  later  years  became  quite  bald  and  wore  a  wig. 

The  Marchioness  was  not  critically  handsome,  but  had  an 
agreeable  lace  and  figure,  and  was  a  most  amiable  woman. 
Mademoiselle  and  Master  George  were  considered  in  their  youth 
fine  children,  and  the  friends  of  the  Marquis  thought  he  made 
a  great  sacrifice  of  domestic  happiness  in  espousing  the  cause 
of  our  country  as  warmly  as  he  did.  His  son,  George  Wash- 
ington Lafayette,  who  was  confided  to  a  Bostonian's  care  dur- 
inf^  one  of  the  stormy  periods  of  his  father's  career  after  his 
return  to  France,  accompanied  tlie  Marquis  to  America  in  1824, 
and  died  at  La  Grange  in  1849. 

Count  Rochambeau  could  not  speak  a  word  of  English,  nor 
could  the  brothers,  Baron  and  Viscount  Viomenil,  the  Mar- 
quis Laval,  or  Count  Saint  Maime.  The  two  Counts  Deux 
Fonts,  on  the  other  hand,  spoke  pretty  well,  while  General 
Chastellux  had  fully  mastered  the  language.  During  the  stay 
of  the  French  at  Newport,  an  invitation  to  the  petites  soupers 
of  the  latter  officer  was  eagerly  welcomed  by  intelligent  Ameri- 
cans. 

It  has  been  said  there  is  not  a  proclamation  of  Xapoleon  to 
his  soldiers  in  which  glory  is  not  mentioned  and  duty  forgot- 
ten ;  there  is  not  an  order  of  Wellington  to  his  troops  in  which 
duty  is  not  inculcated,  nor  one  in  which  glory  is  even  alluded 
to.  Washington's  orders  contain  appeals  to  the  patriotism, 
love  of  country,  and  nobler  impulses  of  his  soldiers.  He  re- 
buked profligacy,  immorality,  and  kindred  vices  in  scathing 
terms ;  he  seldom  addressed  his  army  that  he  did  not  confess 
his  dependence  on  that  Supreme  guidance  which  the  two  pre- 
ceding illustrious  examples  ignored. 

In  this  study  probably  assembled  the  councils  of  war,  at 
which  we  may  imagine  the  General  standing  with  his  back  to 
the  cavernous  fireplace,  his  brow  thoughtful,  his  lips  compressed 
bevond  their  wont,  while  the  glowing  embers  paint  fantastic 


HEADQUARTERS   OF   THE   ARMY.  305 

pictures  on  the  Avainscot,  or  cast  weird  shadows  of  the  tall  figure 
along  the  floor.  Around  the  board  are  Ward,  Lee,  and  Put- 
nam in  the  places  of  honor,  with  Thomas,  Heath,  Greene,  Sul- 
livan, Spencer,  and  Knox  in  the  order  of  rank.  If  the  subject 
was  momentous,  or  not  finally  disposed  of  to  his  satisfaction  in 
the  council,  it  was  Washington's  custom  to  require  a  written 
opinion  from  each  of  the  generals. 

Opposite  the  study,  on  your  left  as  you  enter,  is  the  recep- 
tion-room, in  which  Mrs.  Washington,  who  arrived  in  Cam- 
bridge at  about  the  same  time  as  the  news  of  the  capture  of 
Montreal,  —  twin  events  which  gladdened  the  General's  heart, 
—  received  her  guests.  These,  we  may  assume,  included  aU  the 
families  of  distinction,  either  resident  or  who  came  to  visit  their 
relations  in  camp.  On  the  day  of  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill 
the  untoward  and  afflicting  scenes  so  afi'ected  one  delicate,  sen- 
sitive organization  that  the  lady  became  deranged,  and  died  in 
a  few  months.  This  was  the  wife  of  Colonel,  afterwards  Gen- 
eral, Huntington. 

But  the  gloomy  aspect  was  not  always  uppermost,  and  gayety 
perhaps  prevailed  on  one  side  of  the  hall,  while  matters  of 
grave  moment  were  being  despatched  on  the  other.  It  would 
not  be  too  great  a  flight  of  fancy  to  imagine  the  lady  of  the 
household  looking  over  the  list  of  her  dinner  invitations  while 
lier  lord  was  signing  the  sentence  of  a  court-martial  or  the 
order  to  open  fire  on  the  beleaguered  town.  Mrs.  Washington 
entered  this  house  on  the  11th  December,  1775,  having  for  the 
companions  of  her  journey  from  Virginia  Mrs.  Gat^s,  John 
Custis  and  lady,  and  George  Lewis.  The  General's  wife  had 
very  fine  dark  hair.  A  portion  of  her  wedding  dress  is  highly 
prized  by  a  lady  resident  in  Boston,  while  a  shoe  possessed  by 
another  gives  assurance  of  a  small,  delicate  foot. 

We  pass  into  the  dining-room,  in  which  have  assembled  many 
of  the  most  distinguished  mHitary,  civil,  and  literary  characters- 
of  our  country.  Washington's  house  steward  was  Ebenezer  Aus- 
tin, who  had  been  recommended  to  him  by  the  Provincial  Com- 
mittee. Mrs.  Goodwin  of  Charlestown,  the  mother  of  Ozias 
Goodwin,  a  well-known  merchant  of  Boston,  was  his  house- 


306       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

keeper;  she  had  been  rendered  homeless  by  the  destruction 
of  Charlestown.  The  General  had  a  French  cook  and  black 
servants,  —  then  as  common  in  Massachusetts  as  in  the  Old 
Dominion. 

The  General  breakfasted  at  seven  o'clock  in  the  summer  and 
at  eight  in  the  winter.  He  dined  at  two,  and  drank  tea  early 
in  the  evening  ;  supper  he  eschewed  altogether.  His  breakfast 
was  very  frugal,  and  at  this  meal  he  drank  tea,  of  which  he  was 
extremely  fond.  He  dined  well,  but  was  not  difficult  to  please 
in  the  choice  of  his  viands.  There  were  usually  eight  or  ten 
large  dishes  of  meat  and  pastry,  with  vegetables,  followed  by  a 
second  course  of  pastry.  After  the  removal  of  the  cloth  the 
ladies  retired,  and  the  gentlemen,  as  was  then  the  fashion,  par- 
took of  Avine.  Madeira,  of  which  he  drank  a  couple  of  glasses 
out  of  silver  camp  cups,  was  the  General's  favorite  wine. 

Washington  sat  long  at  table.  An  officer  who  dined  with 
him  says  the  repast  occupied  two  hours,  during  which  the  Gen- 
eral was  toasting  and  conversing  all  the  time.  One  of  his  aides 
was  seated  every  day  at  the  bottom  of  the  table,  near  the  Gen- 
eral, to  serve  the  company  and  distribute  the  bottles.  Wash- 
ington's mess-chest,  camp  equipage,  and  horse  equipments  were 
complete  and  elegant ;  he  broke  all  his  own  horses. 

Aproj)os  of  the  General's  stud,  he  had  two  favorite  horses, 
—  one  a  large,  elegant  chestnut,  high-spirited  and  of  gallant 
carriage,  which  had  belonged  to  the  British  army ;  the  other 
a  sorrel,  and  smaller.  This  was  the  horse  he  always  rode  in 
battle,  so  that  whenever  the  General  was  seen  to  mount  him 
the  word  ran  through  the  ranks,  "  We  have  business  on  hand." 
Washington  came  to  Cambridge  in  a  light  phaeton  and  pair, 
but  in  his  frequent  excursions  and  reconnoitring  expeditions  he 
preferred  the  saddle,  for  he  was  an  admirable  horseman.  Billy, 
the  General's  black  groom  and  favorite  body-servant,  has  be- 
come an  historical  character. 

In  order  that  nothing  may  be  wanting  to  complete  the  in-door 
life  in  this  old  mansion  in  1775  and  1776,  we  append  a  dinner 
invitation,  such  as  was  issued  daily,  merely  cautioning  the 
reader  that  it  is  not  the  production  of  the  General,  but  of  one 
of  his  family  :  — 


HEADQUARTERS   OF  THE   ARMY.  307 

"  The  General  &  Mrs  Washington  present  their  compliments  to 
Col?  Knox  &  Lady,  begs  the  favor  of  their  company  at  dinner  on 
Friday  half  after  2  o'clock 

"  Thursday  Evening  Feby  1st." 

Among  other  notables  who  sat  at  the  General's  board  in  this 
room  was  Franklin,  when  he  came  to  settle  with  his  fellow- 
commissioners,  Hon.  Thomas  Lynch  of  Carolina,  and  Benjamin 
Harrison  of  Virginia,  the  new  establishment  of  the  Continental 
army.  General  Greene,  who  was  presented  to  the  philosopher 
on  the  evening  of  his  arrival,  says  :  — 

"  I  had  the  honor  to  be  introduced  to  that  very  great  man,  Doctor 
Franklin,  whom  I  viewed  with  silent  admiration  during  the  whole 
evening.  Attention  watched  his  lips,  and  conviction  closed  his 
periods." 

We  do  not  know  whether  grace  was  habitually  said  at  the 
General's  table  or  not,  but  the  great  printer  would  have  will- 
ingly dispensed  with  it.  It  is  related,  as  illustrative  of  the 
eminently  practical  turn  of  his  mind,  that  he  one  day  aston- 
ished that  devout  old  gentleman,  his  father,  by  asking,  "Father, 
why  don't  you  say  grace  at  once  over  the  whole  barrel  of  flour 
or  pork,  instead  of  doing  so  three  times  a  day  ? "  Neither  his- 
tory nor  tradition  has  preserved  the  respectable  tallow-chan- 
dler's reply. 

The  first  steps  taken  by  Washington  to  form  a  body-guard 
were  in  orders  of  the  11th  of  March,  1776,  by  which  the  com- 
manding officers  of  the  regiments  of  the  established  army 
Avere  directed  to  furnish  four  men  each,  selected  for  their 
honesty,  sobriety,  and  good  behavior.  The  men  were  to  be 
from  five  feet  eight  to  five  feet  ten  inches  in  height,  hand- 
somely and  well  made,  and,  as  the  General  laid  great  stress 
upon  cleanliness  in  the  soldier,  he  requested  that  partic- 
ular attention  might  be  paid  to  the  choice  of  such  as  were 
"neat  and  spruce."  The  General  stipulated  that  the  can- 
didates for  his  guard  should  be  drilled  men,  and  perfectly 
willing  to  enter  upon  this  new  duty.  They  were  not  re- 
quired to  bring  either  arms  or  uniform,  which   indicates   the 


This 


of 


OF  THE   BODY-fiUAKD. 


308        HISTOEIC   FIELDS    AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

General's  intention  to  newly  arm  and  clothe  his  guard, 
was  the  origin  of  the  celebrated  corps  d' elite. 

Caleb  Gibbs 
Ehode  Island  was 
the  first  commander 
of  the  Life  Guard. 
Hehadbeen  adjutant 
of  Glover's  regiment, 
and  must  have  rec- 
ommended himself 
to  the  commander-in- 
chief.  After  the  war 
he  resided  in  Boston, 
and  was  made  naval 
store-keeper,  with  an 
office  in  Battery- 
march  Street. 

Washington  took  his  departure  from  the  VassaU  house  be- 
tween the  4th  and  10th  of  April,  1776,  for  New  York.  On 
the  4th  he  wrote  from  Cambridge  to  the  president  of  Congress, 
and  on  the  11th  he  was  at  New  Haven  en  route  to  New  York. 
On  the  occasion  of  his  third  visit  to  Boston,  in  1789,  he  again 
passed  through  Cambridge  and  stopped  about  an  hour  at  his 
old  headquarters.  He  then  received  a  military  salute  from  the 
Middlesex  militia,  who  were  drawn  up  on  Cambridge  Common 
with  General  Brooks  at  their  head. 

The  next  person  to  claim  our  attention  is  Nathaniel  Tracy, 
who  became  the  proprietor  after  the  war.  He  kept  up  the  tra- 
ditions of  the  mansion  for  hospitality,  though  we  doubt  whether 
his  servants  ever  drank  choice  wines  from  pitchers,  as  has  been 
stated.  Tracy  was  from  Newburyport,  where,  with  his  brother, 
he  had  carried  on,  under  the  firm  name  of  Tracy,  Jackson,  and 
Tracy,  an  immense  business  in  privateering.  Martm  Brimmer 
was  their  agent  in  Boston.  He  fitted  out  the  first  private 
armed  vessel  that  sailed  from  an  American  port,  and  during  the 
war  was  the  principal  owner  of  more  than  a  score  of  cruisers, 
which  inflicted  great  loss  upon  the  enemy's  marine.     The  follow- 


HEADQUARTEES    OF   THE   AKMY.  309 

ing  extract  will  enable  the  reader  to  form  a  correct  estimate  of 
the  hazard  with  which  this  business  was  conducted  :  — 

"  At  the  end  of  1777  his  brother  and  he  had  lost  one  and  forty 
ships,  and  with  regard  to  himself  he  had  not  a  ray  of  hope  but  in 
a  single  letter  of  marque  of  eight  guns,  of  which  he  had  received  no 
news.  As  he  was  walking  one  day  with  his  brother,  discussing  with 
him  how  they  should  procure  the  means  of  subsistence  for  their 
families,  they  perceived  a  sail  making  for  the  harbor,  which  fortu- 
nately proved  a  prize  worth  £  20,000  sterling. 

"  In  1781  he  lent  the  State  of  Massachusetts  five  thousand  pounds 
to  clothe  their  troops,  with  no  other  security  than  the  receipt  of  the 
State  Treasurer." 

Mr.  Tracy  was  generous  and  patriotic.  Benedict  Arnold  was 
his  guest  Avhile  preparing  to  embark  his  troops  for  the  Kenne- 
bec in  1775.  He  had'  entertained  in  1782,  at  his  mansion  at 
Xewburyport,  M.  de  Chastellux  and  his  aides,  Isidore  Lynch, 
De  Montesquieu,  and  Talleyrand  the  younger.  The  Frenchmen 
coidd  manage  his  good  old  ^Madeira  and  Xeres,  but  the  home- 
brewed punch,  which  was  always  at  hand  in  a  huge  punch- 
bowl, proved  too  much  for  De  Montesquieu  and  Talleyrand, 
who  succumbed  and  were  carried  drunk  to  bed. 

Tracy  went  to  France  in  1 784,  where  he  met  with  due  re- 
turn for  his  former  civilities  from  Viscount  Xoailles  and  some 
of  his  old  guests.  In  1789,  when  again  a  resident  of  K"ewbury- 
port,  he  received  AVashington,  then  on  his  triumphal  tour  ;  and 
in  1824  Lafayette,  following  in  the  footsteps  of  his  illustrious 
commander,  slept  in  the  same  apartment  he  had  occupied. 

jS'ext  comes  Thomas  Russell,  a  Boston  merchant-prince,  ac- 
credited by  the  vulgar  with  ha\ang  once  eaten  for  his  breakfast 
a  sandwich  made  of  a  hundred-dollar  note  and  two  slices  of 
bread. 

Following  Thomas  Russell  came,  in  March,  1791,  Dr.  An- 
drew Craigie,  late  apothecary-general  to  the  Continental  army, 
in  which  service  it  is  reported  he  amassed  a  very  large  fortune. 
For  the  estate,  then  estimated  to  contain  one  hundred  and  fifty 
acres,  and  including  the  house  of  Harry  Yassall,  —  designated 
as  that  of  Mr.  Batchelder,  but  then  occupied  by  Frederick  Geyer, 


310       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

—  Mr.  Craigie  gave  X  3,750  lawful  money,  —  a  sum  so  small 
in  comparison  with  its  value  that  our  reader  will  pardon  us  for 
mentioning  it. 

Craigie  was  at  Bunker  Hill,  and  assisted  in  the  care  of  the 
wounded  there.  He  was  at  Cambridge  during  the  siege  of 
Boston,  and  doubtless  dispensed  his  nostrums  liberally,  for 
physic  was  the  only  thing  of  which  the  army  had  enough,  if 
we  may  credit  concurrent  testimony.  He  was  with  the  North- 
ern army,  under  General  Gates,  in  1777  and  1778,  and  was  the 
confidant  of  Wilkinson,  Gates's  adjutant-general,  in  his  corre- 
spondence with  Lord  Stirling,  growing  out  of  the  Conway  im- 
broglio. Craigie  was  a  director  and  large  proprietor  in  the 
company  which  built  the  bridge  connecting  East  Cambridge  with 
Boston,  to  which  his  name  was  given.  After  his  decease  his 
widow  continued  to  reside  here. 

Craigie  entertained  two  very  notable  guests  in  this  house. 
One  of  them  was  Talleyrand,  the  evil  genius  of  Napoleon,  who 
said  of  him  that  he  always  treated  his  enemies  as  if  they  were 
one  day  to  become  his  friends,  and  his  friends  as  if  they  were 
one  day  to  become  his  enemies.  "  A  man  of  talent,  but  venal 
in  everything."  The  world  has  long  expected  the  private  me- 
moirs of  this  remarkable  personage,  but  the  thirty  years  which 
the  prince  stipulated  in  his  will  should  first  elapse  have  passed 
without  their  appearance.  Without  doubt,  the  private  corre- 
spondence of  Talleyrand  would  make  a  record  of  the  most 
startling  character,  and  give  an  insight  into  the  Hves  of  his  con- 
temporaries that  might  reverse  the  views  of  the  world  in  gen- 
eral in  regard  to  some  of  them.  Few  dared  to  fence  with  the 
caustic  minister.  "  Have  you  read  my  book  ? "  said  Madame 
de  Stael  to  the  prince,  whom  she  had  there  made  to  play  a 
part  as  well  as  herself.  "  No,"  replied  Talleyrand ;  "  but  I 
understand  we  both  figure  in  it  as  women." 

In  December,  1794,  the  Duke  of  Kent,  or  Prince  Edward  as 
he  was  styled,  was  in  Boston,  and  was  received  during  his 
sojourn  with  marked  attention.  He  was  then  in  command  of 
the  forces  in  Canada,  but  afterwards  joined  the  expedition, 
under  Sir  Charles  Grey,  to  the  French  West  Indies,  where  he 


HEADQUARTERS    OF   THE   ARMY.  311 

SO  greatly  distinguished  himself  by  his  reckless  bravery  at  the 
storming  of  Martinique  and  Guadaloupe  that  the  flank  division 
which  he  commanded  became  the  standing  toast  at  the  admiral's 
and  commander-in-chief's  table.  The  Duke  was  a  perfect  mar- 
tinet, and  was  so  unpopular  with  the  regiment  he  commanded 
under  O'Hara,  at  Gibraltar,  that  it  repeatedly  mutinied.  He 
was  the  father  of  Queen  Victoria. 

The  prince  was  accompanied  to  Boston  by  his  suite.  He  was 
very  devoted  to  the  ladies,  especially  so  to  Mrs.  Thomas  Rus- 
sell, whom  he  attended  to  the  Assembly  at  Concert  Hall.  He 
danced  four  country-dances  with  his  fair  companion,  but  she 
fainted  before  finishing  the  last,  and  he  danced  with  no  one 
else,  at  which  every  one  of  the  other  eighty  ladies  present  was. 
much  enraged.  At  the  British  Consul's,  where  the  prince  held 
a  levee,  he  was  introduced  to  the  widow  of  a  British  officer. 
Her  he  saluted,  while  he  only  bowed  to  the  other  ladies  pres- 
ent, which  gave  rise  to  feelings  of  no  pleasant  nature  in  gentle 
breasts.  It  was  well  said  by  one  who  knew  the  circumstance, 
that  had  his  Highness  settled  a  pension  on  the  young  widow 
and  her  children  it  would  indeed  have  been  a  princely  salute. 
The  prince  visited  Andrew  Craigie.  He  drove  a  handsome  pair 
of  bays  with  clipped  ears,  then  an  unusual  sight  in  the  vicinity 
of  Old  Boston. 

In  October,  1832,  Mr.  Sparks  married  Miss  Frances  Anne 
Allen,  of  :N'ew  York,  and  in  April,  1833,  he  began  house- 
keeping in  the  Craigie  house.  He  was  at  this  time  engaged  on 
his  "  Writings  of  George  Washington,"  and  notes  in  his  journal 
under  the  date  of  April  2  :  — 

"  This  day,  began  to  occupy  Mrs.  Craigie's  house  in  Cambridge. 
It  is  a  singular  circumstance  that,  while  I  am  engaged  in  preparing 
for  the  press  the  letters  of  General  Washington  which  he  wrote  at 
Cambridge  after  taking  command  of  the  American  army,  I  should 
occupy  the  same  rooms  that  he  did  at  that  time."  * 

Edward  Everett,  whose  efforts  in  behalf  of  the  Mount  Vernon 
fund  associate  his  name  with  our  memorials  of  Washington, 
*  Rev.  Dr.  Ellis's  Memoir. 


312       HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

resided  here  just  after  his  marriage,  and  while  still  a  professor 
in  the  University  of  which  he  became  president.  Willard, 
Phillips,  and  Joseph  Emerson  Worcester,  the  lexicographer, 
also  lived  in  the  house  we  are  describing. 

We  now  return  to  Mr,  Longfellow,  who  became  an  inmate 
of  the  house  in  1837,  Avith  Mrs.  Craigie  for  liis  landlady.  The 
Harvard  professor,  as  he  then  was,  took  possession  of  the  south- 
east chamber,  which  has  been  mentioned  as  Washington's.  In 
this  room  were  written  "  Hyperion "  and  "  Voices  of  the 
!N^ight,"  and  to  its  insjDiration  perhaps  we  owe  the  lines,  — 

"  Lives  of  great  men  all  remind  us 
We  may  make  our  lives  sublime, 
And,  departing,  leave  behind  us 
Footprints  on  the  sands  of  time." 

Nearly  all  of  Longfellow's  productions,  except  "  Coplas  de 
Manrique  "  and  "  Outre  Mer,"  which  were  written  at  Bruns- 
wick, have  been  23enned  in  the  old  V assail  homestead. 

It  is  related  that  one  day,  after  patiently  exhibiting  his  grand 
old  mansion  to  a  knot  of  visitors,  to  whose  many  questions  he 
replied  with  perfect  good-humor,  the  poet  was  about  to  close 
the  door  on  the  party,  when  the  leader  and  spokesman  accosted 
him  with  the  startUng  question,  — 

"  Can  you  tell  me  who  lives  in  this  house  noiv  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  certainly.     I  live  here." 

"  AMiat  name  ? " 

"  Longfellow." 

"  Any  relation  to  the  Wiscasset  Longfellers  1 " 

This  house  will  ever  be  chiefly  renowned  for  its  associations 
with  the  Father  of  his  Country,  and  when  it  is  gone  the  spot 
will  still  be  cherished  in  loving  remembrance.  Yet  some  pil- 
grims there  will  be  who  will  come  to  pay  tribute  to  the  literary 
memories  that  cluster  around  it  ;  soldiers  who  conquer  with  the 
pen's  point,  and  on  whose  banners  are  inscribed  the  watchword, 
"  Peace  hath  her  victories  no  less  renowned  than  war." 


OLD    TOKY   ROW   AND    BEYOND. 


313 


CHAPTER    XIV. 


OLD    TORY    ROW    AND    BEYOND. 

*'  Damned  neuters,  in  their  middle  way  of  steering, 
Are  neither  fish  nor  tlesh,  nor  good  red  herring." 

Drtden. 

THE  house  standing  at  the  corner  of  Brattle  and  Sparks 
Streets,  ahnost  concealed  from  view  by  a  group  of  giant, 
sweet-scented  Lindens,  has  undergone  such  material  change  as 
not  to  be  easily  recognized  for  a  relic  of  Colonial  times.  The 
old,  two-storied  house,  seen  in  our  view,  has  been  bodily  raised 


from  its  foundations,  on  the  shoulders  of  a  more  youthful 
progeny,  as  if  it  were  anxious  to  keep  pace  with  the  growth  of 
the  trees  in  its  front,  and  still  overlook  its  old  landscape. 

Of  about  the  same  length  of  years  as  its  neighbor  which  we 
have  but  now  left,  this  house  was  in  ante-Revolutionary  times 
first  the  abode  of  Richard  Lechmere,  and  later  of  Jonathan 
Sewall,  —  royalists  both.  To  the  former,  a  Boston  distiller, 
we  have  already  alluded ;  but  the  latter  may  well  claim  a 
passing  notice.  He  belonged  to  one  of  the  old  distinguished 
families   of  jNIassachusetts,  and  was  himself  a    man   of  very 

14 


314       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

superior  abilities.  He  was  the  intimate  friend  and  associate  of 
John  Adams,  and  endeavored  to  dissuade  him  from  embarking 
in  the  cause  of  his  country.  To  Sewall,  Adams  addressed  the 
memorable  words,  as  they  walked  on  the  Great  Hill  at  Port- 
land, "  The  die  is  now  cast ;  I  have  now  passed  the  Eubicon  : 
swim  or  sink,  live  or  die,  survive  or  perish,  with  my  country  is 
my  unalterable  determination."  "  Jonathan  and  John  "  again 
met  in  London,  —  the  former  a  broken-down,  disappointed  man ; 
the  latter  ambassador  of  his  country  at  the  very  court  upon 
whose  niggardly  bounty  the  loyalist  had  depended.  Sewall 
came  to  Xova  Scotia,  where  he  had  been  appointed  Judge  of 
Admiralty.  He  married  Esther,  the  sister  of  Dorothy  Quincy, 
wife  of  Governor  Hancock.  Sewall's  house  was  mobbed  in 
September,  1774,  and  he  was  forced  to  flee  into  Boston.  Old 
MacFingal  asks,  — 

**  Who  made  that  wit  of  water  gruel 
A  judge  of  Admiralty,  Sewall  ?  " 

Sewall's  house  was  at  length  assigned  to  General  Eiedesel  as 
his  quarters.  His  accomplished  lady  has  left  a  souvenir  of  her 
sojourn,  in  her  autograph,  cut  with  a  diamond  on  the  pane  of 
a  west  window,  though  we  ought,  perhaps,  to  say  that  the  sig- 
nature is  considered  as  the  General's  by  his  biographer.  Un- 
fortunately, in  removing  the  glass  from  the  sash  the  pane  was 
broken,  an  accident  much  regretted  by  Mr.  Brewster,  the 
present  owner  of  the  premises. 

Here  the  Germans  enjoyed  a  repose  after  the  vicissitudes 
they  had  undergone,  and  in  which  we  hardly  know  how  suffi- 
ciently to  admire  the  fortitude  and  devotion  of  the  Baroness. 
The  beautiful  lindens  were  a  souvenir  of  the  dear  Rhineland, 
—  not  unworthy,  indeed,  to  adorn  even  the  celebrated  prome- 
nade of  Berlin.  The  Baroness  frankly  admits  that  she  never 
was  in  so  delightful  a  place,  but  the  feeling  that  they  were 
prisoners  made  her  agreeable  surroundings  still  echo  the  words 
of  old  Richard  Lovelace  :  — 

"  Stone  walls  do  not  a  prison  make, 
Nor  iron  bars  a  cage." 


OLD  TORY  ROW  AND  BEYOND.  315 

They  had  balls  and  parties,  and  duly  celebrated  the  king's 
birthday.  All  the  generals  and  officers,  British  and  German, 
came  here  often,  except  Burgoyne,  between  whom  and  Riedesel 
a  coolness  existed.  When  Phillips  was  put  under  arrest  Gen- 
eral Heath  recognized  Eiedesel  as  chief  in  command.  Madame 
Riedesel  had  here  an  opportunity  of  returning  the  civilities  of 
General  Schuyler  in  a  measure,  by  attentions  to  his  daugliter, 
who  had  married  a  gentleman  named  Church,  and  who,  for 
reasons  of  his  own,  lived  in  Boston  under  the  assumed  name  of 
Carter.  Church  was  an  Englishman,  of  good  family,  who  had 
been  unfortunate  in  business  in  London.  He  came  to  America, 
became  a  good  whig,  and,  in  connection  with  Colonel  Wads- 
worth  of  Connecticut,  secured  a  principal  share  of  the  contract 
for  supplying  the  French  troops  in  our  service.  After  the  peace 
he  returned  to  England. 

The  uniform  of  the  Germans  was  blue,  faced  with  yellow, 
which  came  near  causing  some  awkward  mistakes  where  they 
were  engaged.  The  poet  describes  the  enemy's  battle-array  at 
Monmouth  in  this  wise  :  — 

*'  Britons  with  Germans  formed  apart  for  fight, 
The  left  wing  rob'd  in  blue,  in  red  the  right." 

The  Baroness  relates  that  she  found  Boston  pretty,  but  in- 
habited by  violent,  wicked  people.  The  women,  she  says, 
regarded  her  with  repugnance,  and  were  even  so  shameless  as 
to  spit  at  her  when  she  passed  by  them.  She  also  accuses 
"  that  miserable  Carter  "  of  having  proposed  to  the  Americans 
to  chop  off  the  heads  of  the  generals,  British  and  German,  salt 
them  do^ai  in  barrels,  and  send  one  over  to  the  Ministry  for 
every  hamlet  or  town  burned  by  the  king's  forces.  Madam  the 
baroness,  it  appears,  was  not  less  credulous  than  some  foreign 
writers  that  have  appeared  since  her  day. 

The  way  in  which  the  German  contingent  saved  their  colors 
after  the  surrender  of  Saratoga  is  worthy  of  mention.  The  flags 
were  not  given  up  on  the  day  when  the  troops  piled  their  arms, 
as  the  treaty  required,  but  were  reported  to  have  been  burnt. 
This  was  considered,  and  in  fact  was,  a  breach  of  military  faith, 


316      HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND   MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

but,  being  supposed  to  have  occurred  through  the  pardonable 
chagrin  of  veterans  who  clung  to  the  honor  of  their  corps,  was 
overlooked.  Only  the  staves,  however,  were  burned,  the  flags 
being  concealed  with  such  care  by  General  Riedesel  that  even 
his  wife  did  not  know  of  it  until  the  Convention  troops  were 
ordered  to  Virginia,  when  the  Baroness  sewed  the  flags  in  a 
mattress,  which  was  passed  into  the  enemy's  lines  at  Xew  York 
among  the  effects  of  an  officer. 

The  next  of  the  seven  families  wliich  Madame  Riedesel  men- 
tions as  forming  the  exclusive  royalist  coterie  of  Old  Cambridge 
was  that  of  Judge  Joseph  Lee,  whose  house  is  still  standing, 
not  far  from  that  of  Mr.  Brewster's,  in  our  progi'ess  towards  the 
setting  sun. 

This  house  has  the  reputation  of  being  the  oldest  in  Cam- 
bridge, although  another  situated  on  Linnajan  Street  may,  we 
think,  dispute  the  palm  with  it.  Evidently  the  building  now 
appears  much  changed  from  its  primitive  aspect,  both  in  re- 
spect to  size  and  distinctive  character.  Externally  there  is 
nothing  of  the  Puritan  type  of  architecture,  except  the  huge 
central  chimney-stack,  looking  as  if  the  very  earth  had  borne 
it  up  with  difficulty,  for  its  outline  appears  curved  where  its 
bulk  has  settled  unequally.  The  west  end  is  of  rough-cast, 
and  the  whole  outward  structure  as  unaesthetic  and  austere  as 
possible. 

Judge  Lee  was  a  loyalist  of  a  moderate  stamp,  who  remained 
in  Boston  during  the  siege.  He  was  permitted  to  return  to 
Cambridge,  and  ended  his  days  in  his  antique  old  mansion 
in  1802. 

The  large  square  house  at  the  corner  of  Fayerweather  Street 
is  comparatively  modern,  belonging  to  the  period  of  about  1740- 
50,  when  we  find  a  large  proportion  of  the  mansions  of  the  Colo- 
nial gentry  sprang  up,  under  the  influence  of  rich  harvests  from 
the  French  War,  which  gave  our  merchant  princes  an  opportu- 
nity of  thrusting  their  hands  pretty  deeply  into  the  exchequer 
of  Old  England.  Captain  George  Ruggles  owned  the  estate  in 
Shirley's  time,  but  before  the  Revolution  it  became  the  resi- 
dence of  Thomas  Fayerweather,  for  whom  the  street  is  named. 


OLD  TORY  ROW  AND  BEYOND.  317 

The  hoiise  passed  into  the  possession  of  William  Wells,  in 
whose  family  it  still  remains. 

Having  brought  the  reader  a  considerable  distance  from  our 
point  of  departure,  we  at  length  come  to  a  halt  and  consult  our 
guide-book  of  only  fifty  odd  years  ago.  It  tells  us  we  have 
arrived  at  "  the  cross  road  south  of  the  late  Governor  Gerry's, 
now  Eev.  Charles  Lowell's,  seat."  This  is  Elmwood,  the  resi- 
dence of  James  Russell  Lowell. 

It  is  a  pleasure  to  happen  upon  an  old  Colonial  estate  retain- 
ing so  much  of  its  former  condition  as  this.  It  embodies  more 
of  the  idea  of  the  country-house  of  a  provincial  magnate  than  is 
easily  supplied  to  the  limited  horizons  and  scanty  areas  of  some 
of  our  old  acquaintances.  The  splendid  grove  of  jDines  is  a 
reminiscence  of  the  primitive  forest ;  the  noble  elms  have  given 
a  name  to  the  compact  old  mansion-house  and  its  remaining 
acres ;  and  there  are  still  the  old  barn  and  outbuildings,  with 
the  remnant  of  the  ancient  orchard.  It  is  easy  to  see  that  the 
poet's  pride  is  in  his  trees,  and  one  lordly  elm,  seen  from  his 
library  window,  is  worthy  to  be  remembered  with  Milton's 
Mulberry  or  Luther's  Linden.  The  grounds  in  front  of  the 
house  are  laid  out  in  accordance  with  modern  taste,  but  at  tlie 
back  the  owner  may  ramble  at  will  in  paths  all  guiltless  of 
the  gardener's  art,  and  imagine  himself  threading  the  solitudes 
of  some  rural  glade  remote  from  the  sights  and  sounds  of  the 
town. 

Of  old  the  road,  like  a  huge  serpent,  enveloped  the  estate  in 
its  folds  as  it  passed  by  the  front  of  the  house,  and  again 
stretched  along  the  ancient  settlement  of  Watertown  where 
were  its  first  humble  cottages,  its  primitive  church,  and  its 
burial-place.  It  is  almost  in  sight  of  the  spot,  now  the  vicinity 
of  the  Arsenal,  where  the  English  landed  by  Captain  Squeb  at 
Xantasket,  in  May,  1630,  made  their  way  up  Charles  Iviver, 
and  bivouacked  in  the  midst  of  savages.  Sir  Richard  Salton- 
stall's  supposed  demesne  is  still  pointed  out  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, and  at  every  step  you  meet  with  some  memorial  of  the 
founders.  According  to  old  town  boundaries,  the  estate  of  which 
we  are  writing  was  wholly  in  Watertown,  and  extended  its 


ol8      HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

fifteen  acres  quite  to  Fresh  Pond,  on  the  north  ;  it  is  now 
within  the  hmits  of  Cambridge. 

It  has  often  been  stated  that  this  house  was  built  by  Colo- 
nel Thomas  Oliver  (of  whom  anon)  about  1760  ;  but  as  the 
•estate  was  only  leased  by  him  until  the  year  1770,  when  he 
acquired  the  title  by  purchase  of  the  heirs  of  John  Stratton,  of 
Watertown,  we  do  not  give  full  credence  to  the  assertion.  The 
house  is  older  in  appearance,  both  without  and  within,  than  its 
usually  assumed  date  of  construction  would  warrant.  More- 
over, in  the  conveyance  to  Oliver  the  messuage  itself  is  named. 

The  house  is  of  wood,  of  three  stories,  and  is,  in  itself, 
without  any  distinctive  marks  except  as  a  type  of  a  now  obso- 
lete style  of  architecture.  A  suit  of  yellow  and  white  paint 
has  freshened  the  exterior,  as  the  powder  of  the  colonial  pro- 
prietor might  have  once  rejuvenated  his  Avrinkled  countenance. 
The  tall  trees  bend  their  heads  in  continual  obeisance  to  the 
mansion,  like  so  many  aged  servitors  ranged  around  their  mas- 
ter. Inwardly  the  woodwork  is  plain,  and  destitute  of  the 
elaborate  enrichment  seen  in  Mr.  Longfellow's.  As  you  enter 
the  hall,  which  goes  straight  through  the  house,  you  see  the 
walls  are  covered  with  ancestral  portraits  and  with  quaint  old 
engravings,  rare  enough  to  have  dated  from  the  birthday  of 
copperplate.  An  antique  bust  occupies  a  niche  on  the  stair- 
case ;  the  old  clock  is  there,  and  in  every  apartment  are  col- 
lected objects  of  art  or  specimens  of  ancient  furniture,  which 
seem  always  to  have  belonged  to  the  house,  so  perfectly  do  they 
accord  with  wainscot,  panel,  and  cornice.  The  reception-room 
is  on  the  south  side  of  the  house,  and  behind  it  is  the  library. 
The  poet's  study,  in  which  nearly  all  his  poems  have  been 
written,  is  on  the  third  floor. 

In  the  absence  of  the  owner  our  visit  was  brief,  nor  do  we 
feel  at  liberty  longer  to  invade  his  domestic  concerns,  or  revel 
amid  his  household  gods.  ]^ot  to  fright  away  the  muse  from 
the  old  halls,  another  well-known  poet,  T.  B.  Aldrich,  takes  his 
seat  in  the  arm-chair  and  rests  his  feet  on  the  fender.  Taken 
altogether,  Elmwood  is  an  earthly  paradise  to  which  few  would 
be  unwilling  to  attain,  and  were  we  sure  its  atmosphere  were 


OLD  TORY  ROW  AND  BEYOND.  319 

contagious,  we  could  haunt  the  spot,  inhaling  deep  draughts  in 
its  cool  and  grassy  retreats. 

Thomas  Oliver,  the  last  of  the  lieutenant-governors  under  the 
crown,  dwelt  here  before  the  Revolution.  He  belonged  to  the 
Dorchester  family,  and  claimed  no  relationship  with  Andrew 
Oliver,  the  stamp-master  and  successor  of  Hutchinson  as  lieu- 
tenant-governor. The  Olivers  were  of  Huguenot  descent,  re- 
nowned in  ancient  French  chivalry,  where  the  family  patro- 
nymic, now  shortened  by  a  letter,  was  deemed  worthy  to  be 
coupled  with  that  of  a  Eoland,  a  Eohan,  or  a  Coligny.  Thomas 
inherited  a  plentiful  estate  from  his  grandfather,  James  Brown, 
and  his  great-uncle,  Eobert  Oliver,  so  that  his  father  did  not 
deem  it  necessary  to  provide  further  for  him  in  his  will  than  to 
bequeath  some  testimonials  of  affection. 

This  dapper  little  man,  as  the  crown-deputy  was  called, 
pleasant  of  speech  and  of  courtly  manners,  was  in  no  public 
office  previous  to  his  appointment  under  Hutchinson, — a 
choice  so  unexpected  that  it  was  currently  believed  that  the 
name  of  Thomas  had  been  inserted  by  accident  in  tlie  commis- 
sion instead  of  that  of  Peter,  the  chief  justice.  But  our  Machia- 
velh,  who  had  planned  the  affair,  knew  better. 

One  fine  afternoon  in  September,  1774,  the  men  of  Middle- 
sex appeared  in  the  lieutenant-governor's  grounds  and  wrung 
from  him  a  resignation,  after  wliich  he  consulted  his  safety  by 
a  flight  into  Boston.  How  bitter  to  him  was  this  enforced 
surrender  of  his  office,  may  be  gathered  from  the  language  in 
which  it  is  couched  :  — 

"  My  house  at  Cambridge  being  surrounded  by  four  thousand 
people,  in  compliance  with  their  commands  I  sign  my  name,  Thomas 
Oliver." 

The  house  was  utilized  as  a  hospital  after  Bunker  Hill,  the 
opposite  field  being  used  as  the  burying-ground  for  such  as  died 
here.  In  opening  new  streets,  some  of  the  remains  have  been 
exhumed,  —  as  many  as  eight  or  ten  skeletons  coming  to  light 
within  a  limited  area. 

The  royalist's  habitation  became  the  seat  of  his  antipodes,  — 


320        HISTORIC   FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

a  democratic  governor,  later  vice-president,  who  resided  here 
while  holding  these  offices.  Elbridge  Gerry's  signature  is 
affixed  to  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  and  he  was  one  of 
the  three  commissioners  sent  by  Mr.  Adams  to  France  in  1797. 
He  was  chosen  by  the  Provincial  Congress,  of  which  he  was  a 
member,  to  attend  the  Gascon  Lee,  in  his  proposed  interview 
with  Burgoyne,  who  was  to  the  full  as  bombastic,  and  who 
doubtless  thought  of  his  former  companion  in  arms, 

"  Nay  an'  thou  'It  mouth, 
1  '11  rant  as  well  as  thou." 

As  one  of  the  delegates  to  frame  the  Federal  Constitution  at 
Philadelphia,  in  1787,  Mr.  Gerry  refused  to  sign  that  instrument, 
and  opposed  its  adoption  by  the  Convention  of  Massachusetts. 
The  result  was  for  a  time  doubtful,  but  when  the  scale  seemed 
to  incline  in  favor  of  the  federalists,  Gerry  kept  close  at  Cam- 
bridge, and  his  adherents  made  no  motion  for  his  recall.  Han- 
cock, by  the  offer  of  a  tempting  prize,  —  supposed  to  be  no  less 
than  the  promise  of  the  support  of  the  Massachusetts  leaders 
for  the  presidency  in  case  Virginia  failed  to  come  in,  —  was  in- 
duced to  appear  and  commit  himself  in  favor  of  ratification. 
Adams  came  over,  and  with  the  aid  of  Eufus  King,  Parsons, 
Otis,  and  the  rest,  the  measure  was  carried.  This  scrap  of 
secret  history  has  but  recently  come  to  light. 

But  Mr.  Gerry  will  doubtless  be  recollected  as  well  for  the 
curious  political  manipulation  of  the  map  of  Old  Massachusetts, 
which  gave  a  handle  to  his  name  by  no  means  flattering  to  the 
sensibilities  of  its  owner,  and  notoriety  to  one  of  the  most  effec- 
tive party  caricatures  of  his  time.  Briefly,  he  was  the  means 
of  introducing  the  word  "  Gerrymander  "  into  our  political  vo- 
cabulary. The  origin  of  the  name  and  of  the  caricature  have 
been  subjects  of  quite  recent  discussion. 

The  democratic  or  republican  party  having  succeeded  in  re- 
electing Mr.  Gerry  in  1811,  with  both  branches  of  the  Legisla- 
ture in  their  hands,  proceeded  to  divide  the  State  into  new 
Senatorial  districts,  so  as  to  insure  a  democratic  majority  in  the 
Senate.     Hon.  Samuel  Dana,  then  President  of  the  Senate,  is 


OLD    TORY    ROW   AND    BEYOND.  321 

considered  the  author  of  the  scheme,  which  has  also  been  at- 
tributed to  Joseph  Story,  who  was  Speaker  of  the  House  until 
January  12,  1812,  when  he  resigned.  The  bill  passed  both 
branches  early  in  February,  1812,  and  received  the  approval  of 
the  governor.  Under  this  new  and  then  audacious  arrange- 
ment, the  counties  of  Essex  and  Worcester  were  carved  up  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  disregard  even  the  semblance  of  fairness. 
County  lines  were  disregarded  and  public  convenience  set  at 
naught,  in  order  to  overcome  the  federal  majorities  in  those 
counties. 

The  singular  appearance  of  the  new  Essex  district,  where  a 
single  tier  of  to^vns  was  taken  from  the  outside  of  the  county, 
and  Chelsea,  in  Suffolk,  attached,  caused  a  general  outcry  from 
the  federalists.  The  remainder  of  the  county  was  completely 
enveloped  by  this  political  deformity,  which,  with  its  extremi- 
ties in  the  sea  at  Salisbury,  and  Chelsea,  walled  out  the  remain- 
ing towns  from  the  rest  of  the  State.  The  map  of  Essex,  which 
gave  rise  to  the  caricature,  was  drawn  by  Nathan  Hale,  who, 
with  Henry  Sedgwick,  edited  the  "  Boston  Weekly  Messenger," 
in  which  the  geographic-pohtical  monstrosity  first  appeared, 
March  6,  1812. 

At  a  dinner-party  at  Colonel  Israel  Thorndike's  house  in 
Summer  Street,  Boston,  —  the  site  of  which,  previous  to  the 
great  fire  of  1872,  was  occupied  by  Gray's  Block,  —  this  map 
was  exhibited  and  discussed,  and  its  grotesque  appearance  gave 
rise  to  the  suggestion  that  it  only  wanted  wings  to  resemble 
some  fabled  monster  of  antiquity.  Upon  this  Tisdale,  the 
artist  and  miniature-painter,  who  was  present,  took  his  pencil 
and  sketched  the  wings.  The  name  of  Salamander  being  pro- 
posed, Mr.  Alsop,  it  is  said,  suggested  that  of  Gerrymander, 
which  at  once  won  the  approval  of  the  company  ;  but  it  is  not 
so  clear  who  has  the  honor  of  inventing  this  name,  —  an  honor 
claimed  also  for  Ben  Eussell  and  Mr.  Ogilvie.  With  this 
designation  the  Gerrymander  appeared  in  the  **  Boston  Gazette" 
of  March  26,  1812.  The  artist  succeeded  in  forming  a  very 
tolerable  caricature  of  Governor  Gerry  out  of  the  towns  of 
Andover,  Middleton,  and  Lynnfield.  Salisbury  formed  the 
14*  u 


322       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

head  and  beak  of  the  griffin,  Salem  and  Marblehead  the  claws. 
The  design  of  this  famous  political  caricature  has  been  errone- 
ously attributed  both  to  Stuart  and  to  Edward  Horsman. 
The  word  "  Gerrymander,"  though  fully  incorporated  into  our 
language,  has  but  lately  found  a  place  in  the  dictionaries. 

Upon  the  death  of  Mr.  Gerry  the  property  passed  into  the 
possession  of  Eev.  Charles  Lowell,  father  of  the  poet,  by  pur- 
chase from  Mrs.  Gerry.  The  new  owner  greatly  improved  and 
beautified  the  estate,  the  splendid  elms  giving  it  the  name  of 
Elmwood.  Dr.  Lowell  is  best  remembered  as  the  pastor  of  the 
West  Church  in  Boston,  where  more 
than  half  a  century's  service  has  so 
fully  incorporated  his  name  with  that 
historic  edifice  that  the  church  is  better 
known  to-day  as  Lowell's  than  by  its 
ancient  designation.  Dr.  Lowell  suc- 
ceeded Rev.  Simeon  Howard,  in  whose 
time  the  dismantled  appearance  of  the 
West  Church  gave  occasion  to  a  scene 

LOWELL.  n        P  • 

not  usually  lormmg  a  part  of  the  services. 

As  a  couple  of  Jack  Tars  were  passing  by  the  meeting-house 
on  a  Sunday,  observing  the  remains  of  the  steeple,  which  was 
cut  down  by  the  British  troops  in  the  year  1775,  "  Stop,  Jack," 
says  one  of  them,  "  d — n  my  eyes,  but  this  ship  is  in  distress  ; 
she  has  struck  her  topmast.  Let 's  go  on  board  and  lend  her  a 
hand."  Upon  which  they  went  in,  but,  finding  no  assistance 
was  required  of  them,  they  sat  down  until  service  was  ended. 
On  theu'  going  out  they  were  heard  to  say,  "  Faith,  the  ship 
which  we  thought  was  in  distress  has  the  ablest  pilot  on  board 
that  we  've  seen  for  many  a  day." 

Elmwood  comprises  about  thirteen  acres,  and  is  separated 
only  by  the  road  from  Mount  Auburn,  where  the  mould  en- 
closes the  remains  of  two  of  the  poet's  children. 

*•  I  thought  of  a  inound  in  sweet  Auburn, 
"Where  a  little  headstone  stood, 
How  the  flakes  were  folding  it  gently, 
As  did  robins  the  babes  iu  the  wood." 


i 


OLD  TORY  ROW  AND  BEYOND.  323 

James    Eussell    Lowell,    after   leaving   college,    became,    in 
1840,  a  member  of  the  Suffolk  bar,  and  opened  an  office  in 
Boston.     In  this  he  was  true  to  the  traditions  of  his  family. 
His  grandsire  filled  the  office  of  United  States  District  Judge 
by  the  appointment  of  Washington  ;  his  father  studied  law  fi.r'It 
and  divinity  afterwards  ;  while  his  uncle,  the  "  Boston  Eebel" 
of  1812,  was  also  bred  to  the  bar.    From  another  uncle,  Francis 
Cabot,  the  city  of  Lowell  takes  its  name ;  and  those  delightful 
intellectual  feasts,  the  Lowell  lectures,  arose  from  the  bounty  of 
another  member  of  this  family.     Mr.  Lowell  soon  relinquished 
the  law,  and  his  arguments  are   better  known  to  the  world 
through  the  medium  of  his  essays  and  verse  than  by  the  law 
reports.      In    1843  Lowell  joined  with  Robert  Carter  in  the 
publication  of  the  "  Pioneer,"  a  magazine  of  brief  existence. 
The  broad    humor  and  keen  satire  of  the   "  Biglow  Papers." 
which  appeared  during  the  Mexican  War,  are  stiU  relished  by 
every  class  of  readers,  —  the  Yankee  dialect,  now  so  seldom 
heard  in  its  native  richness,  giving  a  piquancy  to  the  language 
and   force  to  the   poet's  ideas.     We  have  the  assertion  of\ 
popular  modern  humorist  -  that  his  productions  made  no  im- 
pression on  the  pubhc  until  clothed  in  the  Yankee  vernacular, 
so  much  is  the  character  associated  with  the  idea  of  original 
mother-wit  and  shrewd  common-sense. 

"  Agin'  the  chimbly  crooknecks  hung, 
An'  in  amongst  'em  rusted 
The  old  queen's  arm  thet  gran'ther  Young 
Fetclied  back  from  Concord  busted." 

The  inquiry  seems  pertinent  whether  we  are  not  on  the  eve 
of  passing  into  a  period  of  mediocrity  in  literature  as  well  as 
of  statesmanship.  Prescott,  Cooper,  Irving,  Everett,  and  Haw- 
thorne have  gone  before  ;  Longfellow,  Bryant,  Lowell,  Holmes, 
Emerson,  Bancroft,  and  Motley  are  descending  into  the  vale  of 
years,  and  the  names  of  those  who  are  to  take  their  places  are 
not  yet  written.  The  coming  generation  wiU  perhaps  look 
back  upon  ours  as  the  Golden  Age  of  American  Letters,  com- 

*  Henry  W.  Shaw  (Josh  Billings). 


324      HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

parable  only  to  the  Golden  Age  of  Statesmen  in  the  day  of 
Webster,  Clay,  Calhoun,  and  their  contemporary  intellectual 
giants. 

As  respects  our  catalogue  of  native  authors,  few,  if  any,  have 
ever  had  their  pens  sharpened  by  necessity  or  dipped  in  the  ink 
of  privation.  Most  of  them  have  been  endowed  with  sufficient 
fortunes,  gravitating  naturally  into  literature,  which  they  have 
enriched,  to  the  great  fame  of  American  culture  at  home  and 
abroad.  Longfellow,  it  is  said,  is  more  read  in  England  than 
any  native  poet,  Tennyson  not  excepted ;  Lowell  is  also  a 
favorite  there ;  and  the  works  of  Irving,  Cooper,  and  Haw- 
thorne are  to  be  found,  in  and  out  of  the  author's  mother 
tongue,  in  the  stalls  of  London,  on  the  Paris  quays,  and  in  the 
shops  of  Leipsic  and  Berlin.  Perliaps  in  the  multitude  of  young 
authors  now  earning  their  daily  bread  in  intellectual  labor, 
some  may  yet  rise  on  the  crest  of  the  wave  worthy  to  receive 
the  golden  stylus  from  these  honored  hands,  for  in  no  one  re- 
spect is  the  growth  of  our  country  more  remarkable  than  in  the 
enlarged  and  still  increasing  area  of  the  literary  field  by  the 
multiplication  of  vehicles  of  information. 

Nearly  opposite  the  Lowell  mansion  once  stood  the  white 
cottage  of  Sweet  Auburn,  some  time  the  home  of  Caroline 
Howard,  who  became  the  wife  of  Rev.  Samuel  Oilman,  of 
Charleston,  in  1819,  and  is  widely  known  as  an  authoress  of 
repute.  At  the  age  of  sixteen  she  commenced  a  literary  career 
with  her  first  composition  in  poetry,  "  Jepthah's  Rash  Yow," 
which  was  followed  by  other  efforts  in  prose  and  verse.  Per- 
haps her  best-known  work  is  the  "Recollections  of  a  Southern 
Matron." 

Miss  Howard  was  the  daughter  of  Samuel  Howard,  a  ship- 
wright of  North  Square,  Boston.  Her  father  dying  in  her  in- 
fancy, Caroline  came  to  live  with  her  mother  at  Sweet  Auburn, 
whose  wild  beauty  impressed  her  young  mind  with  whatever 
of  poetic  fire  she  may  have  possessed.  Indeed,  it  is  her  own 
admission  that  her  childhood  days,  passed  in  wandering  amid 
the  tangled  groves,  making  rustic  thrones  and  couches  of  moss, 
stamped  her  highly  imaginative  temperament  with  its  subtle 


OLD  TORY  ROW  AND  BEYOND.  325 

influences.  In  girlhood  she  was  fairy-like  ;  her  long  oval  face, 
from  which  the  clustering  curls  were  parted,  having  a  deeply 
peacefully  contemplative  expression.  She  was  a  frequent  vis- 
itor at  Governor  Gerry's,  where  she  found  books  to  feed,  if  not 
to  satisfy,  her  cravings.  Owing  to  changes  of  residence,  her 
education  was  indiff'erent ;  but  her  mind  tended  most  naturally 
to  the  beautifid,  music  and  drawing  superseding  the  multipli- 
cation-table. When  she  was  about  fifteen  she  walked,  every 
week,  four  miles  to  Boston,  to  take  lessons  in  French. 

We  close  our  chapter,  a  little  out  of  the  order  of  chronology, 
with  a  fragment  of  revolutionary  history,  which  subtracts  noth- 
ing from  the  interest  of  Elmwood.  When,  on  the  twenty- 
first  of  April,  about  noon,  intelligence  reached  New  Haven 
of  the  Battle  of  Lexington,  the  local  militia  company  was 
immediately  called  out  by  its  captain,  Benedict  Arnold,  and 
forty  of  its  members  assented  to  his  proposal  to  march  at  once 
to  join  the  American  army  as  volunteers.  They  left  New 
Haven  the  next  day.  On  the  way  they  passed  through  Pom- 
fret,  and  were  joined  by  General  Israel  Putnam.  Arriving 
at  Cambridge,  they  were  quartered  in  the  "  splendid  mansion 
of  Lieutenant-Governor  Oliver."  This  was  the  only  company 
on  the  ground  completely  uniformed  and  equipped ;  and,  owing 
to  its  soldier-like  appearance,  it  was  selected  to  deliver  the 
body  of  a  British  officer  who  had  died  of  wounds  received  at 
Lexington.  The  company  remained  three  weeks  in  Cambridge, 
when,  with  the  exception  of  twelve  of  its  number,  who  accom- 
panied Arnold  on  his  adventurous  expedition  to  Canada,  it 
returned  to  New  Haven. 


326       HISTOKIC   FIELDS  AUD   MANSIONS   OF  MIDDLESEX. 


CHAPTEE    XV. 


MOUNT    AUBURN    TO    NONANTUM    BRIDGE. 

"  Crown  me  with  flowers,  intoxicate  me  with  perfumes,  let  me  die  to  the 
sounds  of  delicious  music."  —  Dying  loords  of  Mirabeau. 

IT  would  be  curious  to  analyze  the  feelings  with  which  a 
dozen  different  individuals  approach  a  rural  cemetery. 
Doubtless  repulsion  is  uppermost  in  the  minds  of  the  greater 
number,  for  death  and  the  grave  are  but  sombre  subjects  at  the 
best,  and  few  are  willingly  brought  in  contact  with  the  outward 
symbols  of  the  King  of  Terrors. 


ENTRANCE  TO  MOUNT  AUBURN. 


Much  of  the  aversion  to  graveyards  which  is  felt  by  our 
country  people  may  be  attributed  to  the  hideous  and  fantastic 
emblems   which   are  sculptured  on   our  ancestors'  headstones. 


MOUNT  AUBUEN   TO   NONANTUM   BRIDGE.  327 

The  death's-head,  cross-bones,  and  hour-glass  are  but  little  em- 
ployed by  modern  art.  We  are  making  our  cemeteries  attrac- 
tive, and  — shaU  we  confess  it]  — that  rivalry  displayed  along 
the  splendid  avenues  of  the  living  city  finds  expression  in  the 
habitations  of  the  dead. 

The  city  of  the  dead  has  much  in  common  witli  its  bustling 
neighbor.  It  has  its  streets,  lanes,  and  alleys,  its  aristocratic 
quarter,  and  its  sequestered  nooks  where  the  lowlier  sleep  as 
well  as  they  that  bear  the  burden  of  some  splendid  mausoleum. 
It  has  its  ordinances,  but  they  are  for  the  living.  Here  we 
may  end  the  comparison.  Statesmen  who  in  life  were  at 
enmity  lie  as  quietly  here  as  do  those  giants  who  are  entombed 
in  Westminster  Abbey  with  only  a  sHght  wall  of  earth  between. 
Pitt  and  Fox  are  separated  by  eighteen  inches. 

"  But  where  are  they  —  the  rivals  !  a  few  feet 
Of  sullen  earth  divide  each  windiug-sheet." 

Authors,  learned  professors,  men  of  science,  ministers,  soldiers, 
and  magistrates  people  the  sHent  streets.  Every  trade  is  repre- 
sented. The  rich  man,  whose  wealth  has  been  the  envy  of 
thousands,  takes  up  his  residence  here  as  naked  as  he  came 
into  the  world.  Sin  and  suffering  are  unknown.  There  is  no 
money.  Night  and  day  are  alike  to  the  inhabitants.  The  dis- 
^tant  clock  strikes  the  hour,  unheeded.  Time  has  ended  and 
Eternity  begun. 

Perhaps  Franklin  expressed  the  idea  of  death  as  beautifully 
as  has  been  done  by  human  lips,  to  ]\Iiss  Hubbard  on  the  death 
of  his  brother.     He  says  : 

"  Our  friend  and  we  are  invited  abroad  on  a  party  of  pleasure  that 
IS  to  last  forever.  His  chair  is  first  ready,  and  he  is  gone  before  us, 
—  we  could  not  all  conveniently  start  together,  and  whv  should  vou 
and  I  be  grieved  at  this,  since  we  are  soon  to  follow,  and  we  kn 
where  to  find  him  ? " 


ow 


Mount  Auburn  is  a  miniature  Switzerland,  though  no  loftier 
summits  than  the  Milton  Hills  are  visible  from  its  greatest  ele- 
vation. It  has  its  ranges  of  rugged  hills,  its  cool  valleys,  its 
lakes,  and   its, natural  terraces.      The   Charles   might    be  the 


328      HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

Ehine,  and  Fresh  Pond  —  could  no  fitter  name  be  found  for 
so  lovely  a  sheet  of  water  1  —  would  serve  our  purpose  for  Lake 
Constance.  A  thick  growth  of  superb  forest  trees  of  singular 
variety  covered  its  broken,  romantic  surface ;  deep  ravines, 
shady  dells,  and  bold,  rocky  eminences  were  its  natural  attri- 
butes.    You  advance  from  surprise  to  surprise. 

Art  has  softened  a  little  of  the  savage  aspect  without  impair- 
ing its  picturesqueness ;  has  hung  a  mantle  of  green  tresses 
around  the  brow  of  some  gray  rock,  or  draped  with  willows 
and  climbing  vines  each  sylvan  retreat.  The  green  lawns  are 
aglow  with  rich  colors,  —  purple  and  crimson  and  gold  set  in 
emerald.  Every  clime  has  been  challenged  for  its  contribution, 
and  the  palm  stands  beside  the  pine.  "  How  beautiful  ! "  is  the 
thought  which  even  the  heavy-hearted  must  experience  as  they 
pass  underneath  the  massive  granite  portal  into  this  paradise. 
^N'ature  here  offers  her  consolation  to  the  mourner,  and  man  is, 
after  all,  only  one  of  the  wonderful  forms  sprung  from  her 
bosom. 

"  Lay  lier  i'  the  earth  ; 

And  from  her  fair  and  unpolluted  flesh 

May  violets  spring  !  " 

As  you  thread  the  avenues,  tlie  place  grows  wonderfully  upon 
you.  The  repugnance  you  may  liave  felt  on  entering  gives  way 
to  admiration,  until  it  seems  as  if  the  troubles  of  this  life  were 
like  to  fall  from  you,  with  your  grosser  nature,  leaving  in  their 
stead  notliing  but  peace  and  calm.  Turn  into  this  path  which 
sometimes  skirts  the  hillside,  and  then  descends  into  a  secluded 
glade  environed  with  the  houses  of  the  dead.  Here  the  work- 
men are  enlarging  the  interior  of  a  tomb,  and  the  click  of  chisel 
and  hammer  vibrates  wiih  strange  dissonance  upon  the  stillness 
which  otherwise  enfolds  the  place.  And  one  fellow,  with  no 
feeling  of  his  office,  is  singing  as  he  plies  his  task ! 

Who  shall  write  the  annals  of  this  silent  city  1  A  sarcoph- 
agus on  which  is  sculptured  a  plumed  hat  and  sword  ;  a  broken 
column  or  inverted  torch  ;  a  dove  alighting  on  the  apex  of 
yonder  tall  shaft,  or  is  it  not  just  unfolding  its  white  wings 
for  flight  1  the  sacred  volume,  open  and  speaking  ;  a  face  trans- 


MOUNT   AUBURN   TO   NONANTUM    BRIDGE.  329 

figured,  with  holy  angels  flitting  about  in  marble  vesture.  Here 
in  a  corner  is  one  little  grave,  with  the  myrtle  lovingly  cluster- 
ing above  ;  and  here  is  no  more  room,  for  all  the  members  of 
the  family  are  at  home  and  sleeping.  Each  little  ridge  has  its 
story,  but  let  no  human  ghoul  disturb  the  slumberer's  repose. 

Pass  we  on  to  the  tower  and  up  to  the  battlement.  Our 
simile  holds  good,  for  here  in  gray  granite  is  a  counterfeit  of 
some  old  feudal  castle  by  the  Rhine.  Here  we  stand,  as  it 
were,  in  an  amphitheatre,  hedged  in  by  walls  whose  green 
slowly  changes  into  blue  ere  they  lose  themselves  where  the 
ocean  lies  glistening  in  the  distance.  The  river,  making  its 
way  through  the  hills,  is  at  our  feet.  The  rural  towns  which 
the  city,  like  some  huge  serpent,  ever  uncoiling  and  extending 
its  folds,  is  gradually  enveloping  and  strangling,  nestle  among 
the  hillsides.  Seaward,  the  smoke  from  scores  of  tall  chimneys 
seams  and  disfigures  the  delicate  background  of  the  sky,  while 
they  tell  of  life  and  activity  within  the  vast  workshop  beneath. 
Let  the  great  city  expand  as  it  will,  here  in  its  midst  is  a  city 
of  graves,  its  circle  ever  extending.  It  needs  no  soothsayer  to 
tell  us  which  will  yet  enroll  the  greater  number. 

A  view  of  Mount  Auburn  by  moonlight  and  from  this  tower 
we  should  not  commend  to  the  timid.  The  white  monuments 
would  seem  so  many  apparitions  risen  from  their  sepulchral 
habitations.  The  swaying  and  murmuring  branches  woidd  send 
forth  strange  whisperings  above,  if  they  did  not  give  illusive 
movement  to  the  spectral  forms  beneath.  But  none  keep  vigil 
on  the  watch-tower,  unless  some  spirit  of  the  host  below  stands 
guard  upon  the  narrow  platform  v.^aiting  the  final  trumpet 
sound. 

Mount  Auburn  has  always  been  compared  with  the  great 
cemetery  of  Paris,  originally  called  Mont  Louis,  but  now  every- 
where known  by  the  name  of  old  rran9ois  Delachaise,  the  con- 
fessor of  Louis  Quatorze,  and  of  whom  Madame  de  Maintenon 
said  some  spiteful  things.  The  celebrated  French  cemetery  was 
laid  out  on  the  grounds  of  the  Jesuit  establishment,  and  first 
used  for  sepulture  in  1804,  nearly  thirty  years  previous  to  the 
occupation  of  Mount  Auburn  for  a  similar  purpose.     The  area 


330       HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

of  the  American  considerably  exceeds  that  of  the  Parisian  cem- 
etery, while  its  natural  advantages  are  greatly  superior. 

The  two  remaining  survivors  among  the  founders  of  Mount 
Auburn  are  Dr.  Jacob  Bigelow,  its  earliest  friend,  and  Alexan- 
der AVadsworth,  who  made  the  first  topographical  survey.  It 
should  afford  singular  gratification  to  have  lived  to  witness  not 
only  their  creation  serving  as-  a  model  for  every  city  and  village 
in  the  land,  but  also  to  see  that  it  has  been  the  actual  means 
of  preserving  the  remains  of  those  gathered  within  its  compass 
from  that  miscalled  spirit  of  progress  which  threatens  the  exist- 
ence of  the  most  ancient  of  our  city  graveyards.  It  is  as  like 
as  not  that  the  remains  of  Isaac  Johnson,  the  founder  of  Bos- 
ton, will  be  disturbed  erelong,  and  that  the  old  enclosure 
which  contains  the  ashes  of  John  Hancock  and  of  Samuel 
Adams  will  be  crossed  by  an  avenue.  When  this  takes  place 
we  hope  the  relics  of  these  patriots  will  be  removed  to  some  of 
the  rural  cemeteries,  where  their  countrymen  may  rear  that 
monument  to  their  memory  the  lack  of  which  savors  much  too 
strongly  of  the  ingratitude  of  republics. 

But  this  experience  in  regard  to  cemeteries  is  not  peculiar  to 
American  cities.  The  old  burial-ground  of  Bunhill-Fields  in 
London,  called  by  Southey  the  "  Canipo  Santo  of  the  Dissent- 
ers," and  where  Bunyan,  George  Fox,  Isaac  Watts,  and  De  Foe 
lie,  was  only  preserved,  in  1867,  after  considerable  agitation. 
The  ancient  custom  of  entnmbment  under  churches  may  also  be 
considered  nearly  obsolete.  The  old  English  cathedrals  are 
vast  charnel-houses,  in  which  interments  are  prohibited  by  act 
of  Parliament,  special  authority  being  necessary  for  interment 
in  Westminster  Abbey.  The  mandates  of  health  alone  were 
long  disregarded,  but  the  absolute  insecurity  of  this  method  of 
sepulture  has  been  too  recently  demonstrated  by  the  great  fire 
in  Boston  to  need  other  examples. 

Neither  are  the  riu'al  cemeteries  totally  exempt  from  adverse 
contingencies.  War  is  their  great  enemy,  and  as  they  are 
usually  located  upon  ground  the  best  adapted  to  the  operations 
of  a  siege,  they  have  often  become  the  theatre  of  sanguinary 
coiifiict.     The  shattered  stones  at  Gettysburg,  where  the  dead 


MOUNT   AUBURN    TO   NONANTUM    BRIDGE.  331 

once  lay  more  tliickly  above  ground  than  beneath,  will  long 
bear  witness  of  the  destructive  power  of  shot  and  shell.  Cave 
Hill,  the  beautiful  burial-place  of  Louisville,  Ky.,  still  bears 
the  scars  made  by  General  Kelson's  trenches. 

We  do  not  now  need  to  cite  the  customs  of  the  ancients  who 
often  bunt  their  cemeteries  witliout  tlieir  Avails,  since  the  prac- 
tice of  interment  within  the  limits  of  our  larger  cities  is  now 
generaUy  expressly  forbidden.  Qui'  own  ancestors  chose  the 
vicinity  of  tlieir  churches,  as  was  the  custom  in  Old  England. 
Sometimes  burials  were  made  along  the  highways,  and  not  un- 
frequently  in  the  private  grounds  of  the  family  of  the  deceased. 
This  custom,  which  has  prevaHed  to  its  greatest  extent  in  the 
country,  has,  in  many  instances,  been  productive  of  consequen- 
ces revolting  to  the  sensibilities.  Often  the  fee  of  a  family 
graveyard  has  passed  to  strangers.  We  have  seen  Httle  clusters 
of  gravestones  standing  uncared  for  in  the  midst  of  an  open 
field  ;  we  have  known  them  to  lie  prostrate  for  years,  and  even 
to  be  removed  where  they  obstructed  the  mowing. 

There  was  a  curious  resemblance  between  the  manner  of 
sepulture  practised  by  the  ancient  Celts  and  Britons  with  that 
in  vogue  among  the  American  aborigines.  The  former  buried 
their  dead  in  cists,  barrows,  cavities  of  the  rocks,  and  beneath 
mounds.  The  deceased  were  often  placed  in  a  sitting  posture, 
and  their  arms  and  trinkets  deposited  with  them.  The  latter 
heaped  up  mounds,  or  carefuUy  concealed  their  dead  in  caves. 
The  implements  of  war  or  the  chase,  belonging  to  the  warrior, 
were  always  laid  by  his  side  for  his  use  in  the  happy  hunting- 
grounds.  Some  analogy  in  religious  belief  would  justly  be 
inferred  from  this  similarity  of  customs.  The  Indian  remains 
are  commonly  foimd  in  a  sitting  posture  also,  except  where  cir- 
cumstances do  not  admit  of  inhumation,  when  they  are  fre- 
quently placed  on  scaffolds,  in  a  recHning  posture,  in  the 
branches  of  trees  and  out  of  the  reach  of  wild  animals.  This 
disposition  of  the  dead  appears  to  be  peculiar  to  the  red-men 
of  I^orth  America. 

Our  own  sepulchral  rites  have  altered  but  little  in  a  century. 
Mankind  yet  craves  "the  bringing  home  of  bell  and  burial." 


332      HISTOKIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

A  hundred  years  ago,  carriages  being  as  yet  confined  to  the 
few,  the  greater  part  of  the  mourners  often  walked  to  the  grave. 
Decorum,  indeed,  exacted  that  the  immediate  relatives  of  a 
deceased  person  should  walk  in  procession,  no  matter  what  the 
weather  might  be.  These  were  followed  by  acquaintances,  who 
paid  with  simulated  sorrow  the  duties  required  of  them  by 
fashion.  A  train  of  empty  carriages  brought  up  the  rear,  while 
the  bells  Avere  tolled  to  keep  the  devil  at  a  respectful  distance. 
The  custom  of  the  nearest  friends  following  the  body  to  the 
grave  in  their  moments  of  greatest  affliction  originated,  it  is 
said,  with  us  in  Xew  England.  It  is  worthy  of  being  classed 
with  that  other  agonizing  horror  which  compelled  the  mourner 
to  listen  to  the  fall  of  the  clods  upon  the  coffin. 

Hired  mourners  have  not  yet  made  their  appearance  among 
us  ;  but  if,  while  we  stand  here  in  Mount  Auburn,  we  scan  the 
faces  of  the  occupants  of  yonder  long  train  of  vehicles,  how 
many  shall  bear  the  impress  of  real  grief  1 

'*  Hor.    My  lord,  I  came  to  see  your  father's  funeral. 

"Ham.  I  pray  thee,  do  not  mock  me,  fellow-student;  I  think  it  was  to 
see  my  mother's  wedding. " 

The  increasing  cost  of  funerals  is  becoming  a  matter  of  seri- 
ous solicitude.  The  equality  of  the  grave  is  by  no  means  appli- 
cable to  these  displays.  The  rich,  who  can  afford  to  be  lavish, 
are  copied  by  the  poor,  who  cannot  afford  it.  The  trappings  of 
the  hearse,  the  number  and  elegance  of  the  carriages,  are  noted 
for  imitation.  "  Such  a  one  made  a  poor  funeral,"  or  "  There 
were  but  half  a  dozen  carriages,"  followed  by  an  expressive 
shrug,  are  not  uncommon  remarks,  serving  to  fix  the  worldly 
condition  of  the  deceased. 

Pomp  at  funerals  is  an  inheritance  which  lapsed  into  the 
observance  of  a  few  simple  forms  under  our  Puritan  ancestors. 
It  grew  under  the  province  into  such  proportions  as  called  for 
the  intervention  of  positive  law  to  prevent  tlie  poorer  classes 
ruining  themselves,  for  it  was  long  the  custom  to  present 
mourning  scarfs,  gloves,  and  gold  rings  to  all  the  friends  and 
relatives. 


MOUNT   AUBURN   TO    NONANTUM    BRIDGE.  333 

In  England  Lord  Chesterfield  was  among  the  first  to  dis- 
countenance ostentatious  funerals.  His  will,  marked  by  pecu- 
liarities, provides  for  his  own  last  rites  in  these  words  :  — 

"  Satiated  with  the  pompous  follies  of  this  life,  of  which  I  have 
had  an  uncommon  share,  I  would  have  no  posthumous  ones  dis- 
played at  my  funeral,  and  therefore  desire  to  he  buried  at  the  next 
burying-jDlace  to  the  place  where  I  shall  die,  and  limit  the  whole 
expense  at  my  funeral  to  one  hundred  pounds." 

Not  unfrequently,  however,  the  will  of  a  deceased  person  is 
thwarted,  as  was  the  case  with  Governor  Burnet,  whose  friends 
were  determined  that  his  exit  should  not  be  made  without  noise 
or  ceremony,  in  accordance  with  his  request. 

The  Irish  may  claim  pre-eminence  for  singularity  in  the 
funereal  rite.  With  us  the  house  of  mourning  is  sacredly 
devoted  to  silence  and  sorrow.  We  step  as  lightly  as  if  we 
feared  the  slumberer's  awakening.  The  light  burns  dimly  in 
the  chamber  of  death,  casting  pale  shadows  on  the  recumbent, 
rigid  figure,  robed  for  eternity.  Hushed  and  awe-stricken 
watchers  flit  noiselessly  about.  It  is  difficult,  therefore,  to 
comprehend  the  orgies  which  usually  attend  on  a  "  wake."  All 
we  know  is,  it  is  a  custom,  and  as  such  is  respected,  though  to 
our  mind  "  more  honored  in  the  breach  than  the  observance." 

Our  veneration  for  the  dead  is  not  of  that  fine,  subtle  quality 
that  guards  the  place  of  sepulture,  even  of  the  great,  with  jeal- 
ous care.  The  mother  of  Washington  long  slept  in  an  unknown 
grave  ;  the  place  where  the  ashes  of  Monroe  were  deposited  was 
wellnigh  forgotten,  while  that  of  President  Taylor  is  neglected. 
It  is  doubtful  if  there  are  fifty  persons  now  living  who  know 
the  last  resting-place  of  Samuel  Adams.  Michel  Ney  has  no 
monument  in  Pere  la  Chaise.  What  better  illustration  of  the 
doom  of  greatness  than  the  cash  entry  upon  the  parish  records 
of  the  Madeleine  1  "  Paid  seven  francs  for  a  coffin  for  the 
Widow  Capet." 

Low  as  we  are  inclined  to  estimate  our  own  reverence  for  the 
departed,  it  is  infinitely  greater  than  exists  in  England  or 
France  at  the  present  day.      Just  now   we  related  that   the 


334      HISTOKIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

graves  of  the  martyrs  were  only  preserved  in  London  by  a 
narrow  chance.  In  the  so-called  work  of  restoration  in  the  grand 
old  cathedrals  like  Chester  and  Bath,  it  is  stated  that  the 
bones  of  bishops,  judges,  and  the  magnates  of  the  time,  whose 
remains  were  supposed  to  have  been  consigned  to  everlasting 
rest,  have  been  dug  up  from  the  cellars  and  carted  away  like 
so  much  rubbish  ! 

In  Pere  la  Chaise  you  may  see  half  an  acre  of  gravestones 
collected  in  a  certain  part  of  the  cemetery.  These  once  belonged 
to  graves,  the  leases  of  which  having  expired  or  purchase  not 
being  completed  within  a  specific  time,  the  headstones  are  re- 
moved, the  remains  disinterred  and  consigned  to  a  common 
trench.  In  the  face  of  that  morbid  sentimentality  displayed  by 
the  French  in  the  construction  of  their  tombs  and  their  decora- 
tion at  certain  periods  with  chaplets,  wreaths,  and  immortelles,  it 
is  believed  that  no  other  civilized  nation  regards  the  burial  of 
the  common  people  with  so  much  indifference.  Even  the  poor 
Chinese  sells  himself  to  obtain  a  coffin  in  which  to  bury  his 
father ;  and  one  of  the  most  pleasing  features  of  the  American 
cemetery  is  the  space  set  apart  for  the  interment  of  strangers. 

Hamlet  inquired  of  the  grave-digger  how  long  a  man  will  lie 
in  the  earth  ere  he  rot.  This  question  has  been  answered  in  a 
manner  from  time  to  time  where  measures  of  identification  have 
become  necessary.  The  body  of  Henry  IV.  was  recognized  in 
Canterbury  Cathedral  after  nearly  four  and  a  half  centuries. 
The  remains  of  Charles  I.  were  also  fully  identified  by  the 
striking  resemblance  to  portraits  and  the  division  of  the  head 
from  the  trunk.  The  bodies,  in  these  cases,  were  of  course  em- 
balmed. Henry  VIII.  had  been  interred  in  the  same  vault  in 
which  Charles  I.  had  been  deposited.  The  leaden  coffin  of 
Henry,  which  was  enclosed  in  one  of  wood,  had  been  forced 
open,  exhibiting  the  skeleton  of  the  king  after  the  lapse  of  266 
years.  The  disinterment  of  bones  in  Egypt,  Pompeii,  and 
elsewhere,  after  they  have  lain  in  the  earth  more  than  a  thou- 
sand years,  renders  it  impracticable  to  fix  any  limit  for  their 
preservation. 

A  city  like  Mount  Auburn,  which  counts  its  eighteen  thou- 


MOUNT   AUBURN    TO    NONANTUM    BRIDGE. 


335 


sand  inhabitants,  requires  time  to  observe.  There  are  the 
natural  beauties  of  tree,  shrub,  and  flower;  there  are  the 
tombs,  the  monuments,  and  the  simple  stones.  Then  there  are 
the  epitaphs,  some  of  which  even  the  casual  visitor  may  not 
read  without  emotion.  He  may  stand  before  the  tablets  of 
Kirkland,  Buckminster,  Everett,  Story,  Channing,  or  wander 
about  until  the  name  of  Margaret  Fuller  or  of  Mrs.  Parton 
stays  his  footsteps.  N'ot  far  from  the  entrance  is  the  tomb  of 
the  gifted  Prussian,  Spurzheim,  a  chaste  and  beautiful  design. 
Bowditch's  statue,  in  bronze,  by  Ball  Hughes,  challenges  our 
respect  for  the  man  who  was  the  equal  of  Laplace  in  everything 
but  vanity. 


I 


'!ti^ 


jt^  t'A 


Mount  Auburn  boasts  of  other  architectural  features  besides 
its  tombs,  of  which  so  many  are  now  being  built  above  ground 
that  the  avenues  will,  in  time,  acquire  a  certain  resemblance  to 
Pere  la  Chaise,  where  one  seems  always  walking  in  the  streets 
of  a  city.  The  Chapel  is  a  gem  of  its  kind,  a  cathedral  in  the 
diminutive.  It  has  become  a  central  object  of  attraction,  from 
the  works  of  art  it  contains,  —  the  most  remarkable  specimens 
of  statuary  in  America.     They  were  designed  to  represent  four 


336      HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

distinct  periods  of  American  history,  —  the  Colonial,  Revolu- 
tionary, Assumption  of  Sovereignty,  and  the  Supremacy  of  the 
Laws. 

The  first  phase  is  exhibited  by  John  Winthrop,  who  appears 
"  in  his  habit  as  he  lived,"  with  ruff,  doublet,  and  hose.  The 
figure  is  seated,  and  has  a  contemplative  air.  This  was  the 
work  of  Horatio  Greenough. 

CraAvford  selected  James  Otis  as  a  type  of  the  Eevolution. 
His  conception  is  grand  and  impressive  in  treatment,  noble  and 
striking  in  form  and  feature,  though  to  us  there  appears  a 
superabundance  of  drapery.  Some  fault  has  been  found  by 
critics  with  the  pose,  as  too  theatrical,  but  this  objection  does 
not  find  support  in  the  very  general  admiration  bestowed  upon 
the  work,  which,  to  be  judged  by  the  groups  that  assemble  be- 
fore it,  is  considered  the  peer  among  these  marbles.  Yinnie 
Ream  visited  the  Chapel  when  she  was  engaged  in  modelling 
her  statue  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  and  studied  the  figure  of  Otis 
attentively. 

The  artist,  who,  we  believe,  became  totally  blind  before  this 
work  was  completed,  did  not  succeed  in  creating  the  ideal  of 
Otis  as  a  '  flame  of  fire,'  but  rather,  as  it  seems  to  us,  of  calm 
and  conscious  power.  But  this  strength  is  expressed  with 
great  skill.  Otis  is  given  to  us  by  Blackburn  with  a  counte- 
nance rather  cheerful  than  severe.  He  was  a  merry  companion, 
irascible  to  a  degree,  but  magnanimous,  —  the  life  of  the  clubs 
and  detestation  of  the  crown  officers.  He  might  have  appeared 
in  the  very  attitude  in  which  Crawford's  chisel  has  left  him 
when  making  his  celebrated  reply  to  Governor  Bernard.  Hav- 
ing cited  Domat,  the  famous  French  jurist,  the  Governor  in- 
quired who  Domat  was.  "  He  is  a  very  distinguished  civilian," 
answered  Otis,  "  and  not  the  less  an  authority  from  being  un- 
known to  your  Excellency." 

Opposite  the  statue  of  Otis  is  that  of  John  Adams,  by  Ran- 
dolph Rogers.  It  possesses  much  animation  and  character, 
being  attired  in  the  costume  of  the  time,  so  that  one  sees  the 
man  as  he  really  appeared,  and  not  a  lay  figure.  The  garb  of 
1776,  male  and  female,  civil  and  military,  was  worn  with  as 


MOUNT   AUBURN    TO   NONANTUM    BRIDGE.  337 

much  ease  and  grace  as  any  more  modern  costume  has  been, 
nor  will  it  in  after  time  appear  a  whit  more  awkward  than  that 
which  happens  to  be  the  fashion  of  the  present  generation. 
John  Adams  in  toga  and  sandals  would  be  no  greater  anachro- 
nism than  Julius  Caesar  in  trousers  and  French  boots. 

No  doubt  the  proudest  moment  Mr.  Adams  ever  knew  was 
the  day  on  which  he  was  presented  to  George  III.  as  the  first 
American  Ambassador.  "  Sir,"  said  the  king,  "  I  was  the  last 
man  in  my  kingdom  to  consent  to  your  independence,  and  I 
shall  be  the  last  to  do  anything  to  infringe  it,"  —  a  manly  as 
well  as  kingly  speech. 

Judge  Story's  statue  has  a  singular  appropriateness  in  this 
place.  He  was  the  early  friend  of  Mount  Auburn,  and  de- 
livered the  beautiful  and  impressive  address  of  consecration. 
He  often  visited  its  precincts,  and  lies  couched,  as  he  wished  to 
he,  beneath  its  green  turf.  His  son,  William  W.  Story,  wrought 
on  his  labor  of  love  many  years,  and  produced  a  masterpiece. 

Besides  these  more  prominent  subjects  there  are  in  the  grounds 
of  Mount  Auburn  numerous  works  from  the  chisels  of  Dexter, 
Brackett,  Carew,  and  others.  There  is  also  the  monumental 
urn  erected  in  Franklin  Street,  Boston,  in  the  day  of  the  Old 
Crescent,  in  memory  of  Franklin,  since  placed  above  the  tomb 
of  Charles  Bulfinch,  one  of  the  authors  of  that  improvement. 
The  first  monument  in  the  cemetery  was  erected  over  the  re- 
mains of  Hannah  Adams,  the  historian. 

Powers  and  Crawford  and  the  elder  Greenough,  after  making 
the  name  of  American  art  respected  at  home  and  abroad,  now 
live  only  in  their  works.  At  the  first  Great  Exhibition  at 
Sydenham  our  sculptors  bore  off  the  palm  for  beauty,  leaving 
to  their  European  brethren  the  award  for  rugged  strength.  Of 
either  of  the  triumvirate  of  deceased  sculptors  we  have  named 
it  would  be  possible  to  say,  — 

"  He  dated  from  the  creation  of  the  beautiful." 

The  cemetery  of  Mount  Auburn,  which  is  worthy  of  being 
compared  with   no  other  than  itself,  owes  its  origin  to   the 
Massachusetts   Horticultural   Society.     Within  that  body  the 
15  V 


338       HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

idea  originated  with  Dr.  Jacob  Bigelow,  whose  professional  ex- 
perience condemned  the  practice  of  burials  beneath  the  city 
churches,  while  the  overcrowded  state  of  the  graveyards  was  an 
evil  calling  even  more  loudly  for  remedy.  A  meeting  was  held 
at  Dr.  Bigelow's  house  in  Summer  Street,  Boston,  as  early  as 
November,  1825,  at  which  were  present  John  Lowell,  George 
Bond,  William  Sturgis,  Thomas  W.  Ward,  Samuel  P.  Gardiner, 
John  Tappan,  Dr.  Bigelow,  and  Nathan  Hale,  From  this  time 
the  purpose  seems  never  to  have  been  lost  sight  of  by  Dr. 
Bigelow.  The  credit  of  originating  the  idea  of  a  rural  cemetery 
in  the  vicinity  of  Boston  belongs  to  William  Tudor,  who  before 
1821  suggested  tliis  very  remedy  for  the  evils  attendant  upon 
burials  within  the  city.  His  plan  did  not  differ  from  that 
eventually  carried  out  in  Mount  Auburn. 

The  Horticultural  Society  having  been  incorporated  in  1829, 
an  informal  meeting  was  held  at  the  Exchange  Coffee  House  in 
November  of  the  next  year,  to  initiate  steps  to  bring  before  the 
public  a  plan  for  the  purchase  of  a  garden  and  cemetery.  From 
this  meeting  others  proceeded,  until  a  committee  was  formed 
with  authority  to  secure  a  suitable  site.  George  W.  Brimmer, 
Esq.,  was  then  the  proprietor  of  the  tract  known  as  Sweet 
Auburn,  but  previously  as  Stone's  woods,  whicli  he  had  secured 
with  the  view  of  making  himself  a  residence  and  park.  These 
woods  had,  up  to  tliis  time,  been  a  favorite  resort  for  parties  of 
pleasure,  but  the  axe  had  abeady  begun  its  work  of  ruin  when 
Mr.  Brimmer  appeared  on  the  scene  to  arrest  it.  This  gentle- 
man, who  had  seen  Pere  la  Chaise,  became  an  active  sympa- 
thizer with  the  object  of  establishing  a  cemetery  on  that  plan. 
He  had  given  $  6,000  for  Sweet  Auburn,  which  he  now  ten- 
dered to  the  Horticultural  Society  for  this  sum.  The  offer  was 
accepted.  The  names  of  the  most  prominent  and  influential 
members  in  the  community  are  allied  with  the  foundation. 
Webster,  Story,  and  Everett  took  an  active  part.  The  one 
hundred  subscribers  required,  at  sixty  dollars  each,  to  complete 
the  purchase,  were  quickly  secured.  On  the  24th  of  Septem- 
ber, 1831,  Mount  Auburn  was  formally  dedicated.  The  first 
interment  took  place  during  the  following  year. 


MOUNT   AUBURN    TO    NONANTUM    BRIDGE.  339 

Clashing  interests  between  the  society  and  the  lot-holders 
soon  called  for  new  measures.  A  small  beginning  had  been 
made  with  the  proposed  garden,  but  the  income  from  the  cem- 
etery, greater  than  had  been  expected,  promised  to  increase 
beyond  the  calculations  of  the  most  sanguine.  It  became  evi- 
dent that  the  whole  tract  would  be  wanted  for  a  cemetery.  The 
idea  of  separation  from  the  parent  society  under  a  goTernment 
of  its  own  suggested  itself,  and  was  at  length  proposed  by 
Marshall  P.  Wilder.  The  discussion  on  this  point  was  warm 
and  protracted  ;  so  much  so  that  Judge  Story,  who  acted  as 
chairman  of  the  cemetery  committee,  one  day  took  his  hat  and 
left  the  meeting  in  anger,  but  was  induced  to  return.  The 
terms  of  separation  were  finally  arranged  and  incorporated  into 
the  charter  of  the  Mount  Auburn  Association.  The  society 
relinquished  its  rights  upon  payment,  annually,  of  one  fourth  of 
the  income  of  the  cemetery,  after  deducting  a  fixed  sum  for  its 
expenditures. 

This  most  popular  of  our  societies  has  already  received  a  very 
large  income  from  this  source,  —  sufficient  to  enable  it  to  ex- 
pand and  beautify  with  its  touch  the  most  remote  parts  of  the 
Union.  Taste  is  developed.  A  hanging  garden  is  suspended 
above  the  door  of  every  cottage,  and  Hesperides  gives  up  its 
golden  treasures  at  our  command.  Not  the  least  of  its  benefits 
is  the  inauguration  of  Mount  Auburn,  where  the  weary 

"  Choose  their  ground 
And  take  their  rest." 

In  his  address  on  the  occasion  of  laying  the  corner-stone  of 
Old  Horticultural  Hall,  in  1845,  Mr.  Wilder  well  said  :  — 

"  And  be  it  ever  remembered,  that  to  the  Massachusetts  Horticul- 
tural Society  the  community  are  indebted  for  the  foimdation  and 
consecration  of  Mount  Auburn  Cemetery,  —  that  hallowed  resting- 
place,  that  garden  of  graves." 

We  entered  the  cemetery  with  a  funeral  cortege,  and  we  now 
depart  with  one.  Once  past  the  gate  the  staid  and  solemn 
collection  of  caniages  becomes  dismembered,  and  its  sinuous 


340       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

black  line  parts  in  fragments.  The  driver  cracks  his  whip,  the 
horses  break  into  a  rattling  pace,  while  the  countenances  of  the 
so-called  mourners  are  cleared  as  suddenly  as  if  a  cloud  had 
23assed  from  beneath  the  sun.  Here  comes  the  hearse  to  join 
the  homeward  race,  and  even  the  still  weeping,  reluctant  friends 
are  whirled  away  in  spite  of  themselves.  Is  it  a  burial  with 
military  honors  1  At  entering  the  band  plays  a  dirge,  the  com- 
rades following  with  arms  reversed,  downcast  eyes,  and  meas- 
ured tread.  The  coffin  is  lowered  into  the  grave  and  a  volley 
discharged.  Once  beyond  the  gate  arms  are  shouldered,  the 
music  strikes  up  a  lively  air,  and  the  company  marches  away  as 
gayly  as  on  a  field-day.  Decorum  would  seem  to  challenge  such 
observances.  The  contrast  is  somewhat  too  strongly  defined ; 
the  revulsion  from  grief  to  joyousness  something  discordant 
and  unworthy. 

Emerging  from  Mount  Auburn,  we  take  counsel  of  the 
swinging  sign  pointing  to  the  lane  leading  to  Fresh  Pond, 
which  lies  but  a  little  distance  away,  embosomed  among  the 
woody  hills.  In  England  our  ponds  would  be  called  lakes, 
and  our  lakes  might  vie  with  Caspian  or  Euxine.  But  our 
ponds  have  this  advantage,  that,  while  bearing  their  miniature 
billows  in  summer,  they  become  in  Avinter  solid  acres  of  ice, 
to  be  harvested  within  the  huge  storehouses  on  their  banks. 
!N"ature  has  fixed  these  reservoirs  where  they  may  best  slake  the 
thirst  of  the  cities,  so  that  whether  ten  or  twenty  miles  away 
we  may  drink  of  their  waters. 

Fresh  Pond  seems  to  be  the  natural  source  of  numerous 
underground  streams,  which  are  found  whenever  the  earth  is 
penetrated  to  any  depth  between  it  and  Charlestown.  Its 
shores  have  been  looked  upon  with  peculiar  favor  for  country- 
seats  by  such  as  have  known  its  natural  advantages ;  we  would 
not  attempt  to  fix  a  period  when  it  was  not  a  famed  resort  for 
recreation.  Big-wigged  magistrates  and  coUege  students  came 
here  under  the  Colony,  boating,  angling,  or  haunting  the  cool 
groves.  It  was  from  the  effects  of  exposure  during  a  fishing 
excursion  here  that  poor  Governor  Burnet  got  his  death. 

Historically  the  place  has  its  claims  as  having  served  as  a 


MOUNT   AUBURN   TO    NONANTUM    BRIDGE.  341 

refuge  for  the  panic-stricken  women  and  children  of  the  neigh- 
borhood on  the  19th  of  April,  1775.  One  of  these  fugitives 
thus  relates  her  experience  :  — 

"A  few  hours  with  the  dawning  day  convinced  us  the  bloody 
purpose  was  executing  ;  the  platoon  firing  assuring  us  the  rising  sun 
must  witness  the  bloody  carnage.  Not  knowmg  what  the  event 
would  be  at  Cambridge  at  the  return  of  these  bloody  ruffians,  and 
seeing  another  brigade  despatched  to  the  assistance  of  the  former, 
looking  with  the  ferocity  of  barbarians,  it  seemed  necessary  to  retire 
to  some  place  of  safety  till  the  calamity  was  passed.  My  partner  had 
been  confined  a  fortnight  by  sickness.  After  dinner  we  set  out,  not 
knowmg  whither  we  went.  We  were  directed  to  a  place  called 
Fresh  Pond,  about  a  mile  from  the  town  ;  but  what  a  distressed 
house  did  we  find  it,  filled  with  women  whose  husbands  had  gone 
forth  to  meet  the  assailants,  seventy  or  eighty  of  these  (with  number- 
less infant  children),  weeping  and  agonizing  for  the  fate  of  their 
husbands.  In  addition  to  this  scene  of  distress  we  were  for  some 
time  in  sight  of  the  battle  ;  the  glittering  instruments  of  death  pro- 
claiming by  an  incessant  fire  that  much  blood  must  be  shed,  that 
many  widowed  and  orphaned  ones  must  be  left  as  monuments  of 
British  barbarity.  Another  uncomfortable  night  we  passed  ;  some 
nodding  in  their  chairs,  some  resting  their  weary  limbs  on  the 
floor." 

Time  out  of  mind  the  shores  of  the  pond  belonged  to  the 
Wyeths,  and  one  of  this  family  deserves  our  notice  in  passing, 
Nathaniel  J.  Wyeth  was  born  and  bred  near  at  hand.  Of  an 
enterprising  and  courageous  disposition,  he  conceived  the  idea 
of  organizing  a  party  with  which  to  cross  the  continent  and  en- 
gage in  trade  with  the  Indian  tribes  of  Oregon.  He  enlisted 
one-and-twenty  adventurous  spirits,  who  made  him  their  leader, 
and  with  whom  he  set  out  from  Boston  on  the  1st  of  March, 
1822,  first  encamping  his  party  on  one  of  the  harbor  islands,  in 
order  to  inure  them  to  field  life.  The  voyagers  provided  them- 
selves with  a  novel  means  of  transportation,  —  no  other  than  a 
number  of  boats  built  at  the  village  smithy  and  mounted  on 
wheels.  With  these  boats  they  expected  to  pass  the  rivers 
they  might  encounter,  Avhile  at  other  times  they  were  to  serve 
as  wagons.      The  idea  was  not  without  ingenuity,  but  was 


342       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

founded  on  a  false  estimate  of  the  character  of  the  streams  and 
of  the  mountain  roads  they  were  sure  to  meet  with. 

Wyeth  and  his  followers  pursued  their  route  via  Baltimore 
and  the  railway,  which  then  left  them  at  the  base  of  the  Alle- 
ghanies,  onward  to  Pittsburg,  at  which  point  they  took  steam- 
boat to  St.  Louis,  arriving  there  on  the  18th  of  April.  Hith- 
erto they  had  met  with  only  a  few  disagreeable  adventures. 
They  were  now  to  face  the  real  ditficulties  of  their  undertaking. 
They  soon  discovered  that  their  complicated  wagons  were  use- 
less, and  they  were  forced  to  part  with  them.  The  warlike 
tribes,  whose  hunting-grounds  they  were  to  traverse,  began  to 
give  them  uneasiness  ;  and,  to  crown  their  misfortunes,  they 
now  ascertained  how  ignorantly  they  had  calculated  upon  the 
trade  with  the  savages. 

St.  Louis  was  then  the  great  depot  of  the  Indian  traders, 
who  made  their  annual  expeditions  across  the  Plains,  prepared 
to  fight  or  barter,  as  the  temper  of  the  Indians  might  dictate. 
The  old  trappers  who  made  their  abode  in  the  mountain  region 
met  the  traders  at  a  given  rendezvous,  receiving  powder,  lead, 
tobacco,  and  a  few  necessaries  in  exchange  for  their  furs.  To 
one  of  these  parties  Wyeth  attached  himself,  and  it  was  well 
that  he  did  so. 

Before  reaching  the  Platte  five  of  Wyeth's  men  deserted  their 
companions,  either  from  dissatisfaction  with  their  leader,  or 
because  they  had  just  begun  to  realize  the  hazard  of  the  enter- 
prise. Nat  Wyeth,  however,  was  of  that  stuff  we  so  expressively 
name  clear  grit.  There  was  no  flinching  about  him  ;  the  Pacific 
was  his  objective,  and  he  determined  to  arrive  at  his  destination 
even  if  he  marched  alone.  William  Sublette's  party,  which 
Wyeth  had  joined,  encountered  the  vicissitudes  common  to  a 
trip  across  the  plains  in  that  day  ;  the  only  difference  being  that 
the  New  England  men  now  faced  these  difficulties  for  the  first 
time,  whereas  Sublette's  party  was  largely  composed  of  experi- 
enced plainsmen.  They  followed  the  course  of  the  Platte,  seeing 
great  herds  of  buffalo  roaming  at  large^  while  they  experienced 
the  gnawings  of  hunger  for  want  of  fuel  to  cook  the  delicious 
humps,  sirloins,  and  joints,  constantly  paraded  like  the  fruit  of 


MOUNT   AUBURN    TO    NONANTUM    BRIDGE.  343 

Tantalus  before  their  greedy  eyes.  They  found  the  streams 
turbulent  and  swift ;  the  Black  Hills,  which  the  iron-horse  now 
so  easily  ascends,  were  infested  with  bears  and  rattlesnakes. 
Many  of  the  party  fell  ill  from  the  effects  of  drinking  the 
brackish  water  of  the  Platte,  Dr.  Jacob  Wyeth,  brother  of 
the  captain  and  surgeon  of  the  party,  being  unluckily  of  this 
number. 

Sublette,  a  French  Creole,  and  one  of  those  pioneers  that  have 
preceded  pony-express,  telegraph,  stage-coach,  and  locomotive, 
in  their  onward  march,  had  no  fears  of  the  rivalry  of  the  I^ew 
England  men,  and  readily  took  them  under  his  protection.  Be- 
sides, they  swelled  his  numbers  by  the  addition  of  a  score  of 
good  rifles,  no  inconsiderable  acquisition  when  his  valuable^ 
caravan  entered  the  country  of  the  treacherous  Blackfeet,  the 
thieving  Crows,  or  warlike  Xez-Perces.  The  united  bands 
arrived  at  Pierre's  Hole,  the  trading  rendezvous,  in  July,  where 
they  embraced  the  first  opportunity  for  repose  since  leaving  the 
white  settlements. 

At  this  place  there  was  a  further  secession  from  Wyeth's 
company,  by  which  he  was  left  with  only  eleven  men,  the  re- 
mainder preferring  to  return  homeward  with  Sublette.  Petty 
grievances,  a  somewhat  too  arrogant  demeanor  on  the  part  of 
the  leader,  and  the  conviction  that  the  trip  would  prove  a 
failure,  caused  these  men  to  desert  their  companions  when  only 
a  few  hundred  miles  distant  from  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia. 
Before  a  final  separation  occurred,  a  severe  battle  took  place 
between  the  whites  and  their  Indian  allies  and  the  Blackfeet^ 
by  which  Sublette  lost  seven  of  his  own  men  killed  and  thirteen 
wounded.  N"one  of  Wyeth's  men  were  injured  in  this  fight, 
but  a  little  later  one  of  those  who  had  separated  from  him  was 
ambushed  and  killed  by  Blackfeet. 

Wyeth  now  joined  Milton  Sublette,  the  brother  of  William, 
under  whose  guidance  he  proceeded  towards  Salmon  River. 
The  Bostons,  as  the  northwest  coast  Indians  formerly  styled  all 
white  men,  arrived  at  Vancouver  on  the  29th  of  October,  hav- 
ing occupied  seven  months  in  a  journey  which  may  now  be 
made  in  as  many  days.     The  expedition  was  a  failure,  indeed, 


344       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

SO  far  as  gain  was  concerned,  and  Wyeth's  men  all  left  him  at 
the  Hudson's  Bay  Company's  post.  The  captain,  nothing 
daunted,  and  determined  to  make  use  of  his  dearly  bought 
experience,  returned  to  the  States  the  ensuing  season.  His 
adventures  may  be  followed  by  the  curious  in  the  pleasant 
pages  of  Irving's  Captain  Bonneville.  Arriving  at  the  head- 
waters of  the  Missouri,  he  built  what  is  known  as  a  bull-boat, 
made  of  buffalo-skins  stitched  together  and  stretched  over  a 
slight  frame,  in  which,  with  two  or  three  half-breeds,  he  con- 
signed himself  to  the  treacherous  currents  and  quicksands  of 
the  Bighorn.  Down  this  stream  he  floated  to  its  confluence 
with  the  YelloAvstone.  At  Fort  Union  he  exchanged  his  leather 
bark  for  a  dug-out,  with  which  he  sailed,  floated,  or  paddled 
down  the  turbid  Missouri  to  Camp  (now  Fort)  Leavenworth. 
He  returned  to  Boston,  and,  having  secured  the  means,  again 
repaired  to  St.  Louis,  where  he  enlisted  a  second  company 
of  sixty  men,  with  which  he  once  more  sought  the  old  Oregon 
trail. 

This  was  forty  years  ago.  Since  then  the  Great  American 
Desert,  as  it  was  called,  has  undergone  a  magical  transforma- 
tion. Cities  of  twenty  thousand  inhabitants  exist  to-day  where 
Wyeth  found  only  a  dreary  wilderness  ;  from  the  Big  Muddy 
to  the  Pacific  you  are  scarcely  ever  out  of  sight  of  the  smoke  of 
a  settler's  cabin.  In  looking  at  the  dangers  and  trials  to  which 
Wyeth  found  liimself  opposed,  it  must  be  admitted  tliat  he 
exhibited  rare  traits  of  courage  and  perseverance,  allied  with 
the  natural  capacity  of  a  leader.  His  misfortunes  arose  through 
ignorance,  and  perhaps,  to  no  small  extent  also,  from  that 
vanity  which  inclines  your  full-blooded  Yankee  to  believe  him- 
self capable  of  everything,  because  the  word  "  impossible  "  is 
expunged  from  his  vocabulary. 

Fresh  Pond  has  a  present  significance  due  wholly  to  its  limpid 
waters.  In  Havana,  in  San  Francisco,  and  even  in  Calcutta, 
you  may  read  the  legend  "  Fresh  Pond  Ice."  What,  ice  afloat 
on  the  Ganges  !  New  England  winter  transported  in  crystals 
to  the  bosom  of  the  sacred  stream  !  How  wondrous  the  first 
transparent  cubes  must  have  looked  to  the.  gaping  Hindoo,  and 


MOUNT   AUBURN   TO    NONANTUM   BRIDGE.  345 

how  old  Giinga  would  have  shivered  had  one  of  the  solid  blocks 
fallen  into  his  fiery  tide  ! 

Little  did  John  Winthrop  and  his  associates  dream  that  the 
ice  and  granite  which  they  saw  with  such  foreboding  would 
prove  mines  of  wealth  to  their  descendants.  The  traffic  in  ice 
was  originated  by  Frederick  Tudor  in  1805,  by  shipping  a 
single  cargo  in  a  brig  to  Martinique.  It  was  characterized  by 
the  sagacious  merchants  of  Boston  as  a  mad  project,  and  the 
adventurer  was  laughed  at  by  the  whole  town.  The  cargo 
arrived  in  perfect  condition.  The  business  prospered.  Mr. 
Tudor  found  other  markets  open  to  him,  but  want  of  means 
prevented  his  extending  his  trade  to  the  East  Indies  for  nearly 
thirty  years  after  he  had  shipped  his  first  cargo.  He  leased  or 
purchased  rights  at  Fresh  Pond,  Spot  Pond,  Walden  Pond,  and 
Smith's  Pond,  —  a  railway  bemg  built  to  the  former,  solely  for 
the  transportation  of  ice. 

In  1835  Mr.  Tudor  was  unable  to  meet  his  indebtedness,  but 
by  favor  of  his  creditors  was  enabled  to  go  on  and  pursue  with 
energy  the  business  he  had  inaugurated.  He  discharged  every 
obligation  in  full.  His  house  owned  property  in  N'ahant, 
Charlestown,  I^ew  Orleans,  Jamaica,  Calcutta,  Madras,  and 
Bombay,  so  that  it  was  almost  possible  for  him  who  at  twenty- 
two  had  founded  a  traffic  so  extraordinary  to  repeat  the  proud 
boast  of  England,  "  that  the  sun  never  set  on  his  possessions." 

Let  us  once  more  take  the  route  of  the  old  Watertown  road. 
And  first  we  greet  the  ancient  hostelry  standing  in  the  angle 
formed  by  the  intersection  of  Belmont  Street.  This  was  known 
in  Eevolutionary  times  as  Edward  Bichardson's  tavern,  though, 
as  we  have  seen,  it  dated  much  farther  back.  The  house  has 
been  removed  a  short  distance  from  its  original  location,  and 
has  experienced  changes  in  its  exterior  ;  but  within  are  still  in- 
tact bar-room,  kitchen,  and  dining-room,  with  the  spacious  fire- 
place, beside  which  hung  the  loggerhead.  This  was  one  of  the 
places  where  the  Colony  cannon  and  intrenching  tools  were 
concealed.  It  was  also  a  famous  place  of  resort  for  Burgoyne's 
officers,  on  account  of  the  cock-pit  kept  on  the  other  side  of  the 
road.  Some  of  these  gentlemen,  from  the  West  of  England, 
1.5* 


346       HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

were  very  partial  to  this  cruel  sport.  We  relate  the  answer  of 
a  poor  woman  to  whom  they  applied  to  purchase  a  pair  of  fine 
birds. 

"  I  swear  now  you  shall  have  neither  of  them  ;  I  swear  now 
I  never  saw  anything  so  bloodthirsty  as  you  Britonians  be  ;  if 
you  can't  be  fighting  and  cutting  other  people's  throats,  you 
must  be  setting  two  harmless  creatures  to  kill  one  another.  Go 
along,  go.  I  have  heard  of  your  cruel  doings  at  Watertown, 
cutting  off*  the  feathers,  and  the  poor  creatures'  comb  and  gills, 
and  putting  on  iron  things  upon  their  legs.     Go  along,  I  say." 

Suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  the  old  woman  raised  her 
crutch,  and  threatened  to  execute  summary  justice  on  the  offi- 
cers, who  did  not  consider  it  indiscreet  to  beat  a  hasty  retreat. 
This  tavern  —  subsequently  Bird's,  and  also  kept  by  Bellows  — 
is  now  the  residence  of  Joseph  Bird,  known  through  his  efforts 
to  discover  a  remedy  for  the  prevention  of  conflagrations. 

It  is  not  known  where  Eev.  George  Phillips,  first  pastor  of 
the  church  of  Watertown,  lies  buried,  but  tradition  having 
assigned  the  little  knoll  a  short  distance  beyond  the  tavern  and 
near  the  highway  as  his  resting-place,  Mr.  Bird  caused  excava- 
tion to  be  carefully  made  there,  without  finding  evidence  of 
any  remains. 

A  short  walk  brings  us  to  the  ancient  burial-place  of  Water- 
town.  It  is  not  a  garden  but  a  field  of  graves.  The  stones  are 
scarcely  visible  above  the  clover-tops  and  daisies.  The  red 
brick  and  blue  slate  contrast  somewhat  sharply  with  the  marble 
and  granite  of  the  neighboring  cemetery.  If  anything,  the  place 
wears  an  even  sadder  aspect  of  neglect  than  its  contemporary 
of  Old  Cambridge.  The  very  cedars  seem  dying.  The  mossy 
old  stone-wall  which  forms  one  side  of  the  enclosure  is  half 
concealed  by  climbing  vines.  One  little  pathway  divides  the 
ground  in  twain,  giving  thoughtless  pedestrians  a  short  cut 
from  street  to  street.     A  short  cut  through  a  graveyard  ! 

"  Good  frend  for  lesvs  sake  forbeare." 

This  graveyard  is  thought  to  have  been  used  as  early  as 
1642,   although  the  situation  before  mentioned   on  the   Bird 


MOUNT    AUBURN    TO   NONANTUM   BRIDGE.  347 

estate  was  conjectured  to  have  preceded  it,  —  a  supposition 
which  the  examinations  of  Mr.  Bird  may  be  considered  to  have 
settled.  Opposite,  and  well  \\dthdrawn  from  tlie  highway,  is 
the  house  which  tradition,  that  iguis  fatuus  of  liistory,  alleges 
to  have  been  the  home  of  Rev.  Mr.  PhilliiDS,  —  perhaps  that 
built  for  him  by  Sir  Eichard  Saltonstall.  This  would  place  it 
in  the  front  rank  of  old  houses,  where  it  clearly  belongs,  though 
it  has  for  fifty  years  lost  the  distinctive  English  character  it 
once  possessed. 

The  second  graveyard  in  the  town,  according  to  its  present 
limits,  is  at  the  junction  of  Mount  Auburn  and  Common 
Streets.  It  was  established  about  1754,  the  year  the  meeting- 
house afterwards  used  for  the  sessions  of  the  Provincial  Con- 
gress was  built  on  the  same  ground.  The  neighborhood  of 
the  first  cemetery  is  the  supposed  site  of  the  first  or  second 
meeting-house,  it  being  usually  placed  beside  Mr.  Phillips's 
house.  The  almost  invariable  custom  of  that  day  would  seem 
to  indicate  its  location  within  the  limits  of  the  old  burial-place. 

The  church,  to  which  the  sittings  of  Congress  gave  political 
consequence,  had  a  lofty  steeple  with  square  tower  and  open 
belfry.  The  entrance  was  on  the  east  side.  It  had  galleries, 
and  was  furnished  with  the  old-fashioned  box  pews,  having 
those  movable  seats  which  every  one  at  the  conclusion  of  the 
service  felt  obliged  to  turn  back  with  a  concussion  repeated 
throughout  the  house  like  an  irregular  volley  of  small-arms. 
Ptev.  William  Gordon,  author  of  the  History  of  our  Ptevolution, 
officiated  here  as  the  chaplain  of  Congress.  The  vane  which 
belonged  to  this  house  now  adorns  the  pinnacle  of  the  Metho- 
dist church. 

Before  you  come  to  the  bridge  in  Watertown,  first  built 
in  1660,  there  stood  until  recently,  within  the  foundry-yard 
of  Miles  Pratt  &  Co.,  an  old  dwelling-house  notable  for  its 
dilapidation.  It  seemed  scarcely  able  to  bear  its  own  weight, 
and,  as  it  encumbered  the  ground,  was  pulled  down.  During 
the  work  of  demolition  the  workmen  found  a  number  of  old 
copper  coins,  which  had  remained  concealed  in  chinks  or  crev- 
ices a  century  or  more.     This  is  said  to  have  been  the  old 


348       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

printing-office  of  Benjamin  Edes,  who  removed  his  type  and 
press  from  Boston  in  the  spring  of  1775.  He  printed  for  the 
Provincial  Congress,  and  many  of  the  old  broadsides  of  the 
time  bear  his  imprint. 

Glossing  the  bridge,  the  first  old  house  on  the  east  side  of  the 
way  —  now  the  residence  of  Mr.  Brigham  —  is  the  Coolidge 
tavern  of  Revolutionary  times,  kept  by  Nathaniel  Coolidge  from 
1764  to  1770,  and  afterwards  by  "the  Widow  Coohdge."  Con- 
temporary with  this  was  Learned's  tavern,  on  the  site  of  the 
Spring  Hotel.  Nathaniel  Coolidge's  was  known  in  1770  as  the 
"  Sign  of  Mr.  Wilkes  near  Nonantum  Bridge."  The  house  was 
appointed  as  a  rendezvous  for  the  Committee  of  Safety  in  May, 
1775,  in  case  of  an  alarm.  President  Washington  lodged  here 
in  1789,  and  styled*  the  Widow  Coolidge's  house  a  very  indif- 
ferent one  indeed. 

Opposite  Mr.  Brigham's,  and  near  the  river-bank,  is  another 
old  house,  which  is  situated  on  ground  belonging  from  the  easi- 
est settlement  to  the  Cook  family.  John  Cook  lived  here  during 
the  Revolution,  and  some  of  the  officers  of  our  army  boarded 
with  him  at  the  time  of  the  siege,  of  whom  Colonel  Knox  and 
Harry  Jackson,  bosom  friends,  enjoyed  each  other's  companion- 
ship during  brief  intervals  of  rest.  It  was  probably  to  this  place 
Knox  afterwards  brought  his  wife.  In  a  chamber  of  this  house 
Paul  Revere  engraved  his  plates,  and,  assisted  by  John  Cook, 
struck  off  the  Colony  notes  emitted  by  order  of  the  Provincial 
Congress.  Lying  contiguous  to  this  estate  along  the  river  were 
the  old  fishing- wier  lands  of  the  town. 

Our  rambles  extend  no  farther  in  the  direction  we  have  pur- 
sued than  the  vicinity  of  the  "  Great  Bridge,"  so  caUed  in  the 
day  of  small  things.  Newton,  it  is  true,  abounds  in  pleasant 
walks,  while  not  a  few  of  its  worthies  have  made  a  figure  in 
history.  Of  these  Captain  Thomas  Prentice,  the  famous  Indian 
fighter  in  Philip's  time,  may,  in  the  order  of  chronology,  justly 
claim  precedence.  Reputed  to  have  been  one  of  Old  Noll's  sol- 
diers, he  was  a  sort  of  second  Myles  Standish,  tough  as  hickory, 
seasoned  in  war,  and  of  approved  conduct.  He  is  said  to  have 
killed  with  an  axe,  on  his  farm  in  this  town,  a  bear  which 


MOUNT   AUBURN   TO    NONANTUM    BRIDGE.  349 

attacked  one  of  his  servants.  This  old  trooper  lived  in  the 
saddle  all  his  life,  and  died  at  eighty-nine  of  a  fall  from  his 
horse.  His  place  was  at  the  corner  of  the  road  leading  to 
Brookline,  occupied  of  later  years  by  the  Harbacks. 

Joseph  Ward,  who  built  in  1792  the  old  mansion  opposite 
the  Skinner  place,  was  appointed  by  General  Heath  his  aide-de- 
camp the  day  after  the  battle  of  Lexington,  and  was  the  first  to 
hold  such  a  position  in  the  American  army.  He  was,  in  May 
following,  with  Samuel  Osgood  of  Andover,  appointed  to  a 
similar  position  by  General  Ward,  subsequently  holding  the 
office  of  Commissary  of  Musters  in  the  Continental  Army. 

Michael  Jackson,  colonel  of  the  8th  Massachusetts,  has  been 
met  with  in  our  pages.  Joining  his  company  at  the  Lexington 
alarm,  in  the  absence  of  commissioned  officers,  he  was  chosen 
to  command  for  the  day.  He  immediately  stepped  from  his 
place  in  the  ranks  as  a  private,  and  gave  the  order.  Shoulder 
arms^  platoons  right  ivheel,  quick  time,  forivard  march  !  When 
he  got  to  Watertown  meeting-house  the  officers  of  the  regiment 
were  holding  a  consultation.  Finding  they  were  likely  to  con- 
sume valuable  time  in  speeches,  he  led  all  that  would  follow 
him  where  they  could  strike  the  British.  He  fell  in  with 
Percy's  column,  and  that  gallant  gentleman  received  him  with 
all  the  honors  of  a  hot  discharge  of  musketry.  Jackson's  men 
were  at  first  demoralized,  but  rallied  and  gave  shot  for  shot. 

In  the  old  Newton  burying-ground  the  seeker  will  find  the 
tomb  in  which  were  placed  the  remains  of  General  William 
Hull  and  of  his  wife,  Sarah  (Fuller)  Hull.  A  plain  marble 
slab  is  inscribed, 

''Genl.  William  Hull 

An  officer  of  the  Revolution 

died  Nov.  29th  1825  aged  72  years. 

Mrs  Sarah  Hull 
died  August  2d  1826  aged  67  years." 

However  he  may  read  the  history  of  the  campaign  which 
culminated  in  the  surrender  of  Detroit,  the  student  may  not  in 
this  place  withhold  his  sympathy  for  the  misfortunes  of  a  brave 
but  ill-fated  soldier.     That  he  was  not  deficient  in  courage  his 


350       HISTORIC   FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

conduct  on  some  of  the  hardest-fought  fields  of  the  Revolution 
—  Trenton,  Monmouth,  and  Stony  Point  —  sufficiently  attest ; 
that  he  should  suddenly  have  become  a  coward  is  as  incredible 
as  the  charge  of  his  being  a  traitor  is  absurd.  Yet  a  military 
tribunal  pronounced  him  guilty  of  cowardice,  and  but  for  the 
interposition  of  President  Madison  he  would  have  been  shot. 
Public  sentiment  was  about  equally  divided  in  opinion  as  to 
whether  Hull  was  the  more  coward  or  traitor,  and  current  re- 
port had  it  that  wagon-loads  of  British  gold  had  been  seen 
after  the  surrender  going  to  his  house  at  Xewton. 

This  case  has  always  presented  to  our  mind  a  parallel  with 
that  of  Admiral  Bpig,  an  officer  of  distinguished  bravery,  who, 
in  obedience  to  popidar  clamor,  was  shot  for  cowardice  on  the 
quarter-deck  of  his  own  ship,  meeting  death  like  a  hero.  For- 
tunately General  Hull  was  not  called  upon  to  refute  a  slander 
with  his  life.  It  is  needless  to  recite  instances  of  the  fallibility 
of  courts-martial,  or  of  the  power  of  a  ministry  or  a  cabinet  to 
disgrace  an  officer  for  what  is  not  unfrequently  its  own  culpa- 
bility. No  one  need  be  reminded  that  the  conqueror  of  Vicks- 
burg,  of  Chattanooga,  and  of  Pichmond  was  once  on  the  eve 
of  being  j)ermanently  as  he  was  temporarily  superseded.  The 
victor  of  Nashville  and  the  present  general  of  the  armies  of  the 
United  States  Avere  near  meeting  this  destiny  which  otliers  of 
lesser  note  are  even  now  fulfilling. 

After  General  Hull's  return  to  Newton  at  the  close  of  the 
Pevolutionary  War,  he  resided  first  at  Angler's  Corner  in  a 
wooden  house  still  standing  on  the  west  side  of  the  road  from 
Watertown.  Here  he  lived  ten  or  twelve  years,  until,  after  his 
return  from  Europe  in  1799,  he  built  the  large  brick  house  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  in  which  he  resided  until  he 
went,  in  1805,  to  Detroit,  when  he  sold  it  to  John  Pichardson. 
This  is  the  house,  subsequently  enlarged  into  a  hotel,  and 
known  as  the  Nonantimi  House. 

At  the  peace,  in  1783,  General  Hull  had  embarked  in  largo 
land  speculations,  being  one  of  the  owners  of  the  "  Connecticut 
Peserve,"  on  which  the  city  of  Cleveland  now  stands,  besides 
having  interests  in  Georgia  and  elsewhere  of  a  similar  charac- 


MOUNT   AUBURN    TO    NONANTUM    BRIDGE.  351 

ter.  But  his  public  life  had  always  interfered  with  these  spec- 
ulations. When  he  went  to  Detroit  as  governor,  he  invested 
most  of  his  funds  in  real  estate  in  the  then  frontier  village,  and 
was  obliged  to  build  a  house  for  a  residence.  After  he  left 
Detroit  all  his  property  there  was  sacrificed.  He  had  advanced 
large  sums  for  the  defence  of  the  Territory,  which,  together  with 
his  salary  as  governor,  mostly  remained  unpaid  until  his  death, 
and  were  only  obtained  by  his  family  after  repeated  petitions  to 
Congress  for  relief. 

The  farm  in  iS^ewton  of  nearly  three  hundred  acres,  owned 
and  occupied  by  General  Hull  up  to  the  time  of  his  death,  was 
first  occupied  by  Joseph  Fuller,  born  in  1652.  He  was  the 
son  of  John  Fuller,  who  came  over  in  1635  with  John  Win- 
throp,  Jr.,  and  settled  in  Cambridge  Village  (Xew  Town)  in 
1644.  In  1658  he  bought  a  tract  of  one  thousand  acres  in  the 
northwest  part  of  the  town,  long  known  as  the  Fuller  Farm. 
His  son  Joseph,  when  he  married  Lydia,  daughter  of  Edward 
Jackson,  in  1680,  received  twenty  acres  of  land  from  his  father- 
in-law.  This  was  part  of  a  tract  of  five  hundred  acres  which 
had  belonged  to  Governor  Bradstreet  in  1646,  and  which  the 
governor  had  bought  of  Thomas  Mayhew  of  Watertown  in 
1638  for  six  cows.  Here  Joseph  Fuller  built  his  house  in 
1680,  and  together  with  about  two  hundred  acres  inherited 
from  his  father,  it  formed  the  farm  which  descended  to  his  son 
Joseph,  his  grandson  Abraham  who  added  to  it,  and  his  grand- 
daughter Sarah  Fuller,  who  married  Colonel  William  Hull  in 
1781.  After  the  death  of  Mrs.  Hull  the  place  was  sold  and 
divided,  a  part  coming  into  the  possession  of  William  Claflin, 
who  has  improved  and  embellished  it  with  much  taste.  It 
might  be  called  the  "  Governors'  Farm,"  having  been  owned  by 
Simon  Bradstreet,  William  Hull,  and  William  Claflin. 

About  1767  Abraham  FuUer  removed  a  part  of  the  old  house 
built  in  1680,  and  replaced  it  with  one  more  modern.  The 
portion  of  the  original  structure  retained  by  him  remained  until 
1814,  when  General  Hull  removed  it,  putting  in  its  place  the 
one  he  occupied  till  the  time  of  his  decease.  The  mansion, 
composed  of  the  two  structures  built  by  Judge  Fuller  and  his 


352      HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

son-in-law,  may  still  be  seen  at  Newtonville,  near  the  railway- 
station,  whither  it  was  removed  by  John  H.  Roberts,  who  now 
occupies  it. 

While  this  house  was  building  the  General  resided  in  Boa- 
ton,  leaving  to  his  son-in-law,  Dr.  Samuel  Clarke,  the  care  of 
its  construction.  Dr.  Clarke  was  the  father  of  James  Freeman 
Clarke,  who  wrote  an  able  vindication  of  the  General,  and  of 
Samuel  C.  Clarke.  Upon  taking  possession  of  the  farm  in 
1814  the  General  devoted  himself  to  agriculture,  and  was  one 
of  the  first  in  Kew  England  to  practice  what  is  known  as  "  high 
farming."  He  had  little  society  except  the  members  of  his  own 
family  circle  and  a  few  friends  and  neighbors.  Among  these 
latter  were  Lucius  M.  Sargent,  William  Sullivan,  William 
Little,  George  A.  Otis,  David  Henshaw,  and  Xathaniel  Greene, 
of  Boston ;  Madam  Swan,  of  Dorchester ;  Barney  Smith,  of 
Milton  ;  Gorham  Parsons  and  S.  W.  Pomeroy,  of  Brighton  ; 
Dr.  Morse  and  Marshall  Spring,  of  Watertown.  He  had  nu- 
merous correspondents  among  his  old  comrades  in  arms.  Gov- 
ernor Eustis  and  General  Dearborn  were  of  the  number  of  his 
enemies. 

General  Hull  was  about  five  feet  eight,  of  florid  complexion, 
and  had  blue  eyes.  He  sat  to  Stuart,  in  1821,  who  obtained 
an  excellent  likeness.  At  this  time  he  was  of  portly  figure, 
weighing  perhaps  one  hundred  and  eighty  pounds.  Of  active 
habits,  he  might  be  seen  early  and  late  walking  or  riding  about 
his  farm.  At  seventy  he  still  crossed  his  saddle  with  military 
grace.  His  manners  were  courtly  and  pleasing.  At  a  dinner 
given  him  in  1825  by  citizens  of  Boston,  those  guests  belong- 
ing to  a  newer  generation  were  surprised  to  remark  in  him  the 
fine  old  manner  now  quite  gone  out  of  fashion.  The  General 
received  a  visit  from  Lafayette  in  1825. 

A  pilgrimage  to  Nonantum  Hill  might  revive  shadowy 
glimpses  of  a  scene  worthy  the  pencil  of  Angelo,  Guido,  or 
Raphael,  —  the  Apostle  Eliot  preaching  to  the  Indians  in  1646. 
The  reverend  man  of  God,  ofi'ering  the  Evangel  with  one  hand, 
friendship  and  peace  with  the  other,  would  be  the  central 
figure.      The  grave,  attentive  savages  should  be    grouped   in 


MOUNT   AUBURN    TO    NONANTUM    BRIDGE.  353 

picturesque  attitudes  about  him.  Eliot's  was  an  example  we 
can  always  contemplate  with  satisfaction  as  compensating 
largely  for  the  malevolent  persecution  so  often  meted  out  to 
the  red-man  in  the  name  of  the  Master. 

Having  traversed  the  utmost  limits  of  the  Continental  lines 
in  Middlesex,  from  the  Mystic  to  the  Charles,  and  so  far  as  in 
us  lies  set  the  camps  in  order,  rebuilt  and  garrisoned  the  works 
anew,  sought  out  the  captains,  and  fitted  together  the  parts  of 
the  rude  machinery  of  government,  we  now  entreat  the  reader 
to  bear  us  company  in  our  resume  of  the  first  and  last  attempt 
of  an  enemy  to  penetrate  into  the  interior  of  Massachusetts. 


354      HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

LECHMERe's    point    to    LEXINGTON. 

"A  single  drop  of  blood    .maybe  considered  as  the   signal  of    civil    war.'' 

EdwAHU  GiBBOX. 

IF  the  British  grenadier  had  not  gone  into  a  sho])  with  his 
accoutrements  on,  or  if  the  Province  House  groom  had  not 
been  indiscreet,  perhaps  Gage  would  have  succeeded  in  his  plan 
of  surprising  the  Americans,  destroying  the  stores  at  Concord, 
and  returning  his  troops  with  the  prestige  of  a  successful  expe- 
dition. This  would  have  made  a  capital  despatch  for  the  Min- 
istry, had  the  event  not  fallen  out  otherwise.  North  would 
have  chuckled  and  Barre  sulked,  while  Gage  would  have  re- 
mained master  of  the  situation. 

John  Ballard  was  the  hostler  at  the  stables  on  the  corner  of 
Milk  and  old  Marlborough  Streets,  to  whom  the  groom  imparted 
the  intelligence  that  "  there  would  be  hell  to  pay  to-morrow  "  ; 
but  even  he  little  thought  how  prophetic  his  language  would 
become.  Ballard  was  a  liberty  boy,  but  his  informant  did  not 
suspect  it.  His  hand  trembled  so  much  with  excitement  that 
he  could  hardly  hold  his  curry-comb.  Begging  his  friend  to 
finish  the  horse  he  was  cleaning,  and  feigning  some  forgotten 
errand,  Ballard  left  the  stable  in  haste.  Not  daring  to  go  di- 
rectly to  Revere's  house,  he  went  to  that  of  a  well-known  friend 
of  liberty  in  Ann  Street,  who  carried  the  news  to  Revere. 

Revere  had  concerted  his  signals ;  Robert  Newman  hung 
them  in  Christ  Church  steeple.  The  former  crossed  the  river 
in  his  boat,  mounted  his  horse,  and  the  first  part  of  Gage's  plan 
dissolved  with  the  morning  mists. 

"  And  yet,  tlirough  the  gloom  and  the  light, 
The  fate  of  a  nation  was  riding  that  night, 
And  the  spark  struck  out  by  that  steed  in  his  flight 
Kindled  the  land  into  flame  with  its  heat." 


LECHMERE'S   point   to   LEXINGTON.  355 

It  is  time  the  idea  should  be  buried  out  of  sight  that  the  ex- 
pedition to  Lexington  was  a  mere  marauding  foray  upon  a  col- 
lection of  unarmed,  inoffensive  peasants.  It  was  not  the  fault 
of  the  British  general  that  he  was  not  met  and  resisted  at  every 
step  from  Lechmere's  Point  to  Lexington  Green,  if,  indeed, 
his  troops  had  ever  succeeded  in  reaching  that  place.  It  was 
not  the  fault  of  the  Americans  that  they  did  not  oppose  his 
march  with  the  greater  part  of  the  twelve  thousand  minute- 
men  they  were  engaged  in  equipping  for  the  field.  They  knew 
they  were  levying  war,  they  knew  the  regidars  were  preparing 
to  strike  ;  they  were  surprised,  —  that  is  all. 

Before  the  battle  of  Lexington,  the  Americans  had  twelve 
light  field-pieces,  with  proper  ammunition,  for  which  they  were 
organizing  six  companies  of  artillery,  and  had  accumulated  as 
many  as  eleven  hundred  tents,  fifteen  thousand  canteens,  with 
other  camp  equipage  in  proportion.  We  say  nothing  of  the 
magazines  of  small-arms,  brimstone,  saltpetre,  bullets,  pro- 
visions, and  medicines,  which  they  were  collecting  in  vast 
quantities.  They  had  resolved  five  months  before  that  the 
precise  moment  to  begin  hostilities  was  when  the  British 
marched  into  the  country  with  their  baggage,  artillery,  and 
ammunition.  If  General  Gage  had  quietly  permitted  these 
preparations  to  go  on,  he  would  have  deserved  the  appointment 
of  generalissimo  of  the  provincial  forces. 

The  provincials  had  undoubtedly  received  information  that 
their  stores  were  in  danger,  for,  on  the  very  day  the  troops  left 
Boston,  orders  were  given  for  the  dispersion  of  their  magazines 
among  several  towns.  It  is  evident  that  a  movement  on  Con- 
cord was  apprehended.  The  leaders  knew  they  were  not  quite 
ready  for  battle,  and  they  labored  under  the  disadvantage  of  ex- 
pecting the  blow  without  knowing  precisely  where  it  was  to 
fall.  The  secret  had  been  well  guarded  ;  so  well  that  it  is  said 
Haldimand,  Gage's  second  in  command,  did  not  know  the 
troops  had  marched  until  the  next  morning.  But  this  the 
reader  may  or  may  not  believe  ;  for  our  own  part  we  do  not 
believe  it.  Nevertheless,  General  Gage  had  always  the  advan- 
tage of  a  movable  force,  ready  to  launch  at  any  moment. 


356       HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

In  the  latter  part  of  February,  1775,  by  order  of  General 
Gage,  Captain  Brown  of  the  5 2d,  and  Ensign  Bernicre  of  the 
10th,  went  on  a  reconnoissance  through  Suffolk  and  Worcester 
Counties  as  far  as  the  town  of  Worcester.  Their  mission  was 
purely  military,  and  seems  to  point  to  an  intention  entertained 
by  the  General  to  march  into  the  interior  in  force.  The  othcers 
were  to  observe  the  country  as  adapted  to  military  operations, 
and  were  to  take- sketches  of  the  streams,  defiles,  and  any  ob- 
stacles to  be  encountered  by  an  army  in  a  hostile  country. 
They  were  disguised,  and  attempted  to  pass  themselves  off  as 
surveyors,  but  were  everywhere  recognized,  watched,  and  har- 
assed. In  March  the  same  officers  were  despatched  on  a  similar 
errand  to  Concord.  The  British  general  was  as  well  informed 
of  the  hostile  preparations  as,  on  their  side,  the  provincials  were 
that  he  Avas  meditating  a  blow.  Such  was  the  situation  of  the 
parties  on  the  18th  of  April,  1775. 

Massachusettensis  says  (iage  swore  when  he  came  to  Boston, 
"  I  came  to  put  the  acts  of  the  British  Parliament  in  force,  and 
by  G — d  I  will  do  it."  This  declaration  seems  so  clearly  to 
ignore  the  other  side  of  the  question  that  we  cannot  help  re- 
peating the  remark  of  Dr.  Franklin  to  the  Britons,  who  com- 
plained to  him  of  the  scurvy  treatment  the  king's  troops  had 
met  with  at  Lexington,  from  the  Yankees  getting  behind  stone- 
walls and  firing  at  them.  The  Doctor  replied  by  asking  them 
whether  there  were  not  two  sides  to  the  tvalls  /  This  anecdote 
Avas  repeated  with  a  good  deal  of  unction  on  the  battle-ground 
by  Washington,  when  on  his  tour  in  1789.  The  retort  would 
have  won  for  the  philosopher  in  our  time  the  now  celebrated 
sobriquet  of  "  Stonewall." 

It  must  have  been  after  eleven  o'clock  when  Colonel  Francis 
Smith,  of  the  10th,  with  his  eight  hundred,  landed  at  Lecli- 
mere's  Point  from  the  boats  of  the  men-of-war.  It  was  a  fine 
moonlight  night.  The  men  were  in  light  marching  order,  and 
took  no  rations.  Smith  called  his  officers  around  him  and  told 
them  they  were  in  no  event  to  hre  unless  fired  upon.  The 
roads  were  all  picketed  by  Gage's  order  the  previous  evening, 
and  it  is  probable  that  if  Revere  —  who  was  by  this  time  on 


LECHMERE'S   point   to   LEXINGTON.  357 

his  errand  —  had  not  fallen  in  with  one  of  these  patrols  he 
would  have  ridden  plump  into  the  main  body.  The  troops 
moved  by  old  Charlestown  Lane,  now  Milk  Street,  so  that 
Eevere's  route  intersected  their  line  of  march.  Samuel  Murray, 
a  tory,  and  the  son  of  a  pestilent  tory,  was  their  guide. 

The  morning  was  chilly,  the  way  unfrequented,  and  not  a 
sound  came  out  of  the  gloom  in  which  the  cohort  was  en- 
shrouded, save,  perhaps,  the  rattling  of  scabbards  in  unison 
with  the  measured  tramp,  or  where  some  amphibious  batrachian 
sent  up  a  dismal  croak  from  the  stagnant  pools.  The  gallant 
Welsh,  the  gay  marines,  and  the  gracious,  well-bred  officers  of 
the  light  companies  must  have  felt  their  spirits  not  a  little  in- 
fetited  by  their  inglorious  undertaking.  Smith  unconsciously 
held  in  his  hand  the  wedge  which  was  to  split  the  British 
Empire  in  twain. 

The  column  moves  on  in  silence  past  the  old  Davenport 
tavern,  still  standing  at  the  corner  of  l!^orth  Avenue  and  Beech 
Streets.  Afar  off  the  note  of  alarm  had  begun  to  sound  with 
the  awakening  day.  Eevere  had  roused  the  Medford  bands. 
Bells  W' ere  beginning  to  ring  out,  and  gunshots  to  explode  on 
the  morning  air,  as  we  have  heard  them  many  a  time  since  in 
some  country  village  at  the  return  of  this  day.  Smith  halts  ; 
the  surprise  has  ended,  and  certes,  we  should  say  the  soldiers' 
faces  might  brighten  at  the  prospect.  Pitcairn  moves  off  with 
his  six  companies.  An  express  goes  back  to  the  General  for 
help.  Then  the  word  is  "  Forward  !  "  and  the  column  presses 
on.  It  passes  the  last  rendezvous  of  the  Eevolutionary  Com- 
mittee at  the  Black  Horse  in  Menotomy,  now  Arlington,  and 
Elbridge  Gerry,  Orne,  and  Lee,  escaping  half  dressed  into  the 
fields,  throw  themselves  flat  on  their  faces  among  the  stubble. 
The  watch-dogs  bark,  but  the  shutters  of  the  houses  in  the  vil- 
lage are  kept  close  drawn,  while  eager  eyes  peer  forth  into  the 
darkness.  "  Close  your  ranks ! "  "  Press  on ! "  are  the  oft-repeated 
commands.  Beside  the  old  Tufts'  tavern  the  soldiers  halt  to 
slake  their  thirst  at  a  well  now  filled  up,  but  which  was  for- 
merly in  the  space  between  the  tavern  and  the  store.  Men 
roused  from  sleep  at  the  tread  of  the  British  i)halanx  warily 


358        HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

look  out  into  the  morning's  obscurity.  They  see  the  moonlit 
points  of  eight  hundred  bayonets  glittering  coldly  above  a  mov- 
ing mass,  which  seems  like  the  illusive  images  of  a  phantasma- 
goria. They  count  the  platoons,  then,  seizing  their  muskets, 
take  to  the  fields,  where  they  meet  their  neighbors,  all  striving, 
with  a  common  impulse,  to  get  ahead  of  the  regulars'  column. 

It  is  a  tradition  in  Arlington  that  the  first  person  to  give  the 
alarm  here  was  Cuff  Cartwright,  a  negro  slave,  who  lived  at  his 
master's  on  the  road,  not  far  from  the  pond.  An  ofhcer  gave 
the  black  a  dollar  to  silence  him,  but  as  soon  as  the  detach- 
ment had  passed  Cufiee  struck  across  the  fields  and  roused  the 
neighborliood. 

In  Smith's  ranks  were  a  number  of  young  officers  belonging 
to  the  fleet,  who  embraced  the  opportunity  for  a  run  ashore 
with  all  the  enthusiasm  and  careless  disregard  of  danger  which 
characterizes  the  blue  jacket  the  world  over.  Among  them  was 
Philip  d'Auvergne,  Duke  of  Bouillon,  who  was  then  a  lieutenant 
on  board  the  Asia,  under  Captain,  afterwards  Admiral,  Vande- 
put,  then  lying  in  Boston  harbor.  On  this  day  D'Auvergne  nar- 
rowly escaped  being  made  prisoner.  He  afterwards  attended 
in  the  boats  at  Bunker  Hill,  and  was  in  the  expedition  to  Fal- 
mouth. It  is  worthy  of  remark  that  D'Auvergne  and  Nelson 
were  the  only  two  officers  under  age  who  were  permitted  to 
join  the  expedition  to  the  Arctic  in  1773  in  the  Carcass  and 
Eacehorse. 

The  British  officers  Avere  fond  of  riding  out  into  the  country, 
and  under  the  j^retext  of  parties  of  pleasure  had  picked  up  a 
good  deal  of  knowledge  of  the  roads  and  of  the  inhabitants. 
Pitcairn  himself  had  been  out  on  this  business,  as  had  also 
Samuel  Graves,  afterwards  a  Britisli  admiral.  The  Britons  were 
fond  of  chaffing  the  countrymen,  but  were  often  unhorsed  in  a 
tilt  of  wits.  It  is  related  that  one  day  a  little  knot  of  these 
officers  were  approaching  AValtham,  when  they  observed  a 
countryman  sowing  what  appeared  to  be  grain.  "  Ho,  fellow  !  " 
says  one  of  the  officers,  "  you  may  sow,  but  we  shall  reap." 
"  Waal,"  replied  the  native,  "  p'r'aps  you  wiU  ;  I  'm  sowing 
hemp."     The  Britons  pushed  on  a  short  distance,  laughing  at 


LECHMERE's    point   to   LEXINGTON.  359 

their  own  discomliture,  but  souii  returned  and  insisted  that  the 
Yankee  should  accompany  them  to  the  next  tavern,  where  he 
drank  as  coolly  as  he  had  retorted  at  their  expense,  and  re- 
turned to  his  labor.  This  anecdote  has  done  duty  in  other 
connections.  Owing  to  the  celerity  of  the  march  and  the 
success  of  his  precautions.  Smith's  brigade  arrived  within  a 
mile  and  a  quarter  of  the  Lexington  parade-ground  before  the 
militia  had  any  notice  of  their  approach. 

It  is  daybreak.  The  ''  Foot  of  the  Rocks,"  a  mile  above 
the  centre  of  the  village  of  Arlington,  is  reached  and  passed. 
Smith  and  Pitcairn  debouch  on  the  fatal  plain  of  Lexington. 
They  hear  the  rebel  drum,  and  the  word  is  passed  to  halt, 
prime,  and  load.  The  ground  is  littered  where  they  stand  with 
the  cartridge-ends,  while  eight  hundred  nervous  arms  are  for- 
cing the  lead  down  into  as  many  musket-barrels.  Forward  ! 
The  leading  companies  wheel  out  of  the  road  and  into  the 
Common,  where  they  see  Parker's  minute-men  drawn  up  at  the 
north  end  of  the  Green,  near  the  Bedford  road.  The  armed 
forces  of  authority  and  of  rebellion  here  meet  for  the  first  time 
face  to  face.  A  British  volley  pealed  out  the  knell  of  British 
ascendency  in  the  l^ew  World. 

Poor  Pitcairn's  memory  has  suffered  all  the  obloquy  of  hav- 
ing given  the  order  to  hre.  A  thousand  orators  and  writers 
have  attacked  his  memory  in  manner  and  form  from  that  day  to 
this.  It  is  only  just  to  observe  that  British  authorities  are  united 
in  saying  that  the  Americans  gave  the  first  fire.  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Smith,  who  was  not  with  the  vanguard  when  the  fatal 
firing  took  place,  asserts  it  in  his  ofiicial  report  to  General 
Gage,  which  was  based  upon  that  of  Major  Pitcairn,  and  of 
other  officers  who  were  present,  to  himself.  Nothing  more 
conclusively  shows  the  unreliability  of  some  of  the  depositions 
taken  by  direction  of  the  Massachusetts  Congress  than  the 
statement  that  Colonel  Smith  was  with  the  advance. 

Mrs.  Hannah  Winthrop,  tlie  wife  of  Dr.  Winthrop  of  Cam- 
bridge, has  left  her  impressions  of  the  scenes  of  horror  and  dis- 
may that  took  place  when  the  news  passed  from  house  to  house 
that  the  regulars  were  out.      She  could  never  forget,  nor  could 


360      HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

time  erase  from  her  mind,  the  terrors  created  by  the  midnight 
alarm,  when  the  peaceful  inhabitants  were  roused  from  their 
beds  by  beat  of  drum  and  clang  of  bells,  with  all  the  clamor, 
confusion,  and  dread  which  such  an  event  could  inspire,  —  the 
men  hurriedly  arming  and  hastening  to  the  fray ;  women  la- 
menting and  wringing  their  hands  in  despair ;  children  weep- 
ing and  clinging  to  their  parents ;  while  the  very  house-dogs 
howled  with  fright  at  the  untoward  sounds  from  the  steeples. 

But  all  were  not  bereft  of  reason  by  the  sudden  suuimons  to 
arms.  We  have  glimpses  of  the  fond  wife,  pale  but  resolute, 
girding  up  the  loins  of  her  warrior  ere  he  sets  out  for  the  field  of 
blood  ;  of  the  mother  buckling  on  the  son's  sword  with  a  linger- 
ing caress  and  benediction ;  and  of  the  aged  sire  taking  down 
from  its  lodgement  over  the  fireplace  the  old  queen's  arm  he  bore 
at  Louisburg,  which  he  now  places  in  more  youthful  hands,  and 
commends  to  eyes  yet  able  to  sight  along  the  clouded  barrel. 

"  Ah  !  then  and  there  was  liun-yiiig  to  and  fro, 
And  gathering  tears,  and  tremblings  of  distress, 
And  cheeks  all  pale  which  but  an  hour  ago 
Blushed  at  the  praise  of  their  own  loveliness." 

To  comprehend  the  affair  of  the  19th  of  April,  1775,  the 
situation  of  the  buildings  about  the  Common  on  that  day  must 
be  understood.  Approaching  with  the  troops  from  the  direc- 
tion of  Cambridge,  the  roads  separated  as  they  now  do,  —  that 
leading  to  Concord  passing  to  the  left,  that  to  Bedford  and 
Billerica  diverging  to  the  right.  Within  the  triangular  area 
formed  by  these  roads  was  the  Common,  or  Green,  then  unen- 
closed. Upon  a  little  elevation  near  the  apex  or  southerly 
extremity  of  the  Green  stood  the  old  church,  built  in  1714,  —  a 
barn-like  structure  of  three  stories,  with  a  pitched  roof  Tho 
building  had  no  proper  belfry,  but  on  a  little  structure  placed 
a  short-  distance  north  of  the  meeting-house  was  a  bell-tower, 
from  which  pealed  forth  the  alarm  on  the  memorable  morning. 
The  church  presented  its  side  to  the  Concord  road  and  its  end 
to  the  Bedford  road.  It  was  taken  down  in  1794,  and  a  new 
edifice  with  a  tower  erected  near  the  spot.  This  building  was 
destroyed  by  fire,  and  was  then  rebuilt  where  it  now  stands,  at 


LECHMEKE'S   point   to    LEXINGTON.  361 

the  northwesterly  cornqf  of  the  Common.  The  flagstafi"  is  now 
placed  not  far  from  the  site  of  the  old  meeting-house,  but  since 
the  day  when  it  stood  here  the  southerly  point  of  the  Common 
has  been  somewhat  elongated.  An  oak-tree  or  two  stood  about 
the  meeting-house,  and  the  Common  itself  was  covered  here  and 
there  with  low  brush.  The  little  belfry  stood  on  the  site  of 
the  monument.  It  was  removed  to  the  old  Parker  farm,  on 
the  Waltham  road,  better  known  as  the  birthplace  of  Theodore 
Parker,  whose  ancestor,  John  Parker,  commanded  the  company 
of  minute-men  tired  upon  by  the  regulars. 

On  the  right  of  the  Bedford  road  and  nearly  opposite  the  old 
church  was  John  Buckman's  tavern,  in  which  many  of  Parker's 
men  assembled  before  the  arrival  of  the  trooj^s,  and  which 
served  as  a  refuge  for  some  of  the  Americans  afterwards.  The 
fugitives  fired  upon  the  Britons  from  this  house,  and  the  shot- 
holes  still  seen  in  the  clapboards  attest  that  they  drew  the 
regulars'  fire.  Some  of  the  British  wounded  were  left  here  on 
the  retreat.  The  old  inn,  now  owned  by  the  Meriam  family, 
remains  nearly  as  it  was  in  1775,  and  is  the  most  conspicuous 
landmark  of  the  battle-ground.  The  first  post-office  in  the  town 
was  here  located.  Some  Lombardy  poplars  that  formerly  stood 
about  the  building  have  now  disappeared.  The  tavern,  with  its 
barn  and  outbuildings,  and  the  meeting-house  and  belfry,  are 
shown  in  old  views  of  the  Common. 

On  the  southwest  side  of  the  Concord  road,  and  looking  upon 
the  Common,  were  two  houses,  at  least  one  of  which  is  still 
standing.  On  the  north  side  of  the  Green  were  two  dwellings, 
with  a  blacksmith's  shop  between.  The  one  nearest  the  Bed- 
ford road  was  that  of  Jonathan  Harrington,  one  of  the  vic- 
tims of  the  regulars'  fire,  whose  wife  witnessed  his  fall  and  the 
convulsive  efforts  made  by  him  to  reach  her  side.  The  other 
house,  then  that  of  Daniel  Harrington,  and  still  remaining  in 
the  Harrington  family,  is  now  there,  looking,  we  should  imagine, 
much  as  it  did  a  hundred  years  ago.  In  front  of  it  are  some  of 
the  most  magnificent  specimens  of  our  grand  American  elm  to 
be  seen  far  or  near.  Doolittle's  picture  of  the  battle-ground  was 
drawn  from  this  house.  On  the  east  of  it  was  the  well  at 
16 


362        HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 


which  the  king's  men  quenched  their  thirst,  and  behind  the 
house  now  occupied  by  the  famiUes  of  Harrington  and  Swan  is 
still  to  be  seen  the  quaint  little  blacksmith's  shop  with  one  of 
those  ugly  orifices  in  the  door  made  by  a  leaden  ball.  This 
completes  our  view  of  Lexington  Green  in  1775.  Except  that 
the  avenue  on  the  north  side  was  a  mere  lane,  and  that  the 
space  has  been  enlarged  at  the  southern  extremity,  the  place  is 
topographically  the  same  as  on  the  day  of  the  fight. 

The  British  main  body  marched  up  the  Concord  road  and 
remained  there  Avhile  the  attack  took  place.  A  body  of  grena- 
diers moved  into  the  Common  by  the  Bedford  road,  deploying 
in  front  of  the  Americans,  Avho  were  paraded  some  four  or  five 
rods  east  of  the  monument  and  near  the  Bedford  road.  At  the 
first  alarm  the  minute-men  assembled  between  the  tavern  and 
the  meeting-house. 

Lexington  Common,  as  we  see  it  to-day,  bears  little  resem- 
blance to  the  green  where  the 
first  death- volley  rattled  in  1775. 
There  is  a  triangular  enclosure, 
bordered  by  a  double  row  of 
elms,  some  of  large  growth,  oth- 
ers of  more  recent  planting.  A 
fence,  composed  of  stone  posts 
with  wooden  rails,  separates  the 
ground  from  the  liighways  which 
pass  on  either  side. 

The  battle-monument  stands 
near  the  west  corner  of  the  enclo- 
sure, not  far  from  the  ground 
where  the  first  victims  were 
stretched  in  their  blood,  and  at  a 
dozen  paces  from  the  south  side. 
It  is  i^laced  on  a  Httle  knoll,  is  surrounded  by  an  iron  fence, 
and  has  the  front  with  the  inscription  facing  south.  It  is  enough 
to  say  of  this  monument,  that  its  insignificant  appearance,  when 
compared  with  the  object  it  is  intended  to  perpetuate,  can  arouse 
no  other  than  a  feeling  of  disappointment  in  the  mind  of  the 


LEXINGTON  MONUMENT. 


LECHMERE'S    point   to    LEXINGTON.  363 

pilgrim.  The  shaft  is  of  granite,  with  a  marble  tablet  bearing 
the  following  inscription,  written  by  Rev.  Jonas  Clark  of  Lex- 
ington.    Lafayette  and  Kossuth  have  both  read  it. 

"  Sacred  to  the  Liberty  and  the  Rights  of  Mankind !  !  !  The 
Freedom  and  Independence  of  America  —  Sealed  and  defended 
with  the  blood  of  her  sons  —  This  Monument  is  erected  by  the  In- 
habitants of  Lexington,  under  the  patronage  and  at  the  exj^ense  of 
the  Commonwealth  of  Massachusetts,  to  the  memory  of  their  Fel- 
low-citizens, Ensign  Robert  Monroe,  Messrs.  Jonas  Parker,  Samuel 
Hadley,  Jonathan  Harrington,  Junr.,  Isaac  Muzzy,  Caleb  Harring- 
ton and  John  Brown,  of  Lexington,  and  Asahel  Porter,  of  Woburn, 
who  fell  on  this  Field,  the  first  \actims  of  the  Sword  of  British  Tyr- 
anny and  Oppression,  on  the  morning  of  the  ever-memorable  Nine- 
teenth of  April,  An.  Dom.  1775.  The  Die  was  Cast  !  !  !  The  blood 
of  these  Martyrs  in  the  cause  of  God  and  their  Country  was  the 
Cement  of  the  Union  of  these  States,  then  Colonies,  and  gave  the 
Spring  to  the  Spirit,  Firmness  and  Resolution  of  their  Fellow-citi- 
zens. They  rose  as  one  man  to  revenge  their  Brethren's  blood,  and 
at  the  point  of  the  Sword  to  assert  and  defend  their  native  Rights. 
They  nobly  dared  to  be  Free  !  !  !  The  contest  was  long,  bloody,  and 
affecting.  Righteous  Heaven  approved  the  Solemn  Appeal  ;  Vic- 
tory crowned  their  Arms,  and  the  Peace,  Liberty,  and  Indepen- 
dence of  the  United  States  of  America  was  their  glorious  Reward. 
Built  in  the  year  1799." 

The  bodies  of  the  seven  individuals  belonging  to  Lexington 
were  originally  enclosed  in  long  wooden  boxes  made  of  rough 
boards,  and  buried  in  one  grave  in  a  corner  of  the  town  bury- 
ing-ground,  separate  and  distinct  from  aU  other  graves.  A  few 
days  prior  to  the  celebration  in  1835,  the  remains  were  disin- 
terred and  placed  in  a  wooden  cothn  enclosed  in  lead  and  made 
air-tight,  the  whole  being  then  placed  in  a  mahogany  sar- 
cophagus. At  the  conclusion  of  the  exercises  on  that  occasion 
the  sarcophagus  was  deposited  in  the  tomb  constructed  near  the 
base  of  the  monument.  When  the  bodies  were  exhumed  the 
coffins  were  completely  decayed.  The  bones  were  also  more  or 
less  decayed. 

The  people  of  Lexington,  sensible  of  the  impression  which  tlie 
monument  gives  the  beholder,  have  some  time  contemplated  the 


364     HISTORIC  FIELDS  AND  MANSIONS   OF  MIDDLESEX. 

building  of  a  new  one  on  a  more  enlarged  plan.  This  idea  has 
finally  obtained  expression  in  four  memorial  statues,  which  are 
placed  in  the  Town  Hall ;  two  of  which  represent  a  soldier  of 
1775  and  of  1861 ;  and  two  others  of  life  size,  John  Hancock 
and  Samuel  Adams.  The  figure  of  Hancock,  by  Gould,  is  a 
work  of  great  elaboration.  Its  left  hand  holds  a  scroll, 
having  the  words,  "  We  mutually  pledge  to  each  other  our 
lives,  our  fortunes,  and  our  sacred  honor."  The  statue  of 
Adams  is  by  Milmore.  We  must  say  that  it  does  not 
appear  from  this  measure  how  the  defects  of  the  old  mon- 
ument, with  its  too  lengthy  inscription,  are  to  be  remedied. 
The  memorials  placed  within  four  walls  fail  to  inculcate 
any  moral  lesson,  and  are  completely  shut  out  from  the  obser- 
vation of  the  passer-by.  The  old  monument,  not  being  of 
itself  a  relic  of  the  Revolution,  its  materials  might  be  included 
in  a  new  structure  more  properly  commemorative  of  the  event. 
It  stands  just  where  it  should,  —  on  the  spot  where  the  tocsin 
first  sounded  "  To  arms  !  "  It  should  not  be  inferred  that  vis- 
itors are  not  admitted  with  all  courtesy  to  view  the  statuary, 
but  we  should  much  like  to  see  a  shaft  national  in  its  character 
and  worthy  to  illustrate  one  of  History's  most  eventful  pages, 
standing  on  the  ancient  parade. 

The  troops,  having  finished  their  bloody  work,  and  being 
joined  by  the  rear  column,  re-form,  give  three  huzzas  for  vic- 
tory, and  push  on  for  Concord.  As,  however  fast  they  may 
march  we  shall  be  sure  to  overtake  them,  we  desire  the  reader 
to  accompany  us  to  the  old  Clark  house  so  called. 

What  is  now  Hancock  Street  was  the  old  Bedford  road  in 
1775.  The  parsonage  Avas  situated  on  the  west  side,  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  distant  from  the  old  meeting-house. 

The  house  belongs  certainly  to  two,  and  perhaps  to  three, 
periods.  It  is  composed  of  a  main  building  in  the  plain,  sub- 
stantial style  of  the  last  century,  and  of  a  more  antiquated 
structure  standing  at  right  angles  with  it.  The  first  confronts 
you  if  you  have  come  down  the  road  from  the  Common  ;  the 
last  faces  the  street,  from  which  the  whole  structure  stands 
back  a  little  distance,  with  a  space  of  green  turf  between.  A 
large  willow  is  growing  in  front  of  the  main  house,  and  on  the 


LECHMERE'S   point   to   LEXINGTON.  365 

verge  of  the  grass-plot  stands  an  elm,  its  branches  interlacing 
those  of  a  fellow-tree  on  the  other  side  the  way,  so  as  to  form  a 
triumphal  arch  under  which  no  patriot  should  fail  to  pass.  We 
have  christened  the  twain  Hancock  and  Adams.  The  one  is 
sturdy,  far  reaching,  and  comprehensive ;  the  other,  graceful, 
supple,  but  of  lesser  breadth.  About  the  house  flourish  lilacs, 
syringas,  and  the  common  floral  adjuncts  of  a  ^ew  England 
home. 

In  this  house  the  afterwards  proscribed  fellow-patriots,  Han- 
cock and  Adams,  were  lodging  at  the  time  of  the  night  march, 
of  which  one  object  was  supposed  to  be  their  arrest.  They 
were  advised  by  Gerry  that  the  British  ofticers  were  patrolling 
the  road  with  some  sinister  design.  A  guard  of  the  town's 
alarm-list  was  placed  about  the  house,  and  when  Revere  rode 
up,  "  bloody  with  spurring,"  to  warn  the  patriot  leaders,  he 
was  requested  not  to  make  a  noise  for  fear  of  waking  them. 
"  Noise ! "  quoth  our  blufif  mechanic,  "  you  '11  have  noise  enough 
before  long.  The  regulars  are  coming  out ! "  After  some 
further  parley  with  the  Rev.  Mr.  Clark,  Hancock,  who  recog- 
nized his  friend's  voice,  arose  and  bade  him  enter.  William 
Dawes,  the  other  messenger  sent  by  Warren,  arrived  soon  after. 
This  was  not  long  after  midnight,  and  sleep,  we  may  suppose, 
was  banished  the  house  for  the  remainder  of  the  night. 

The  room  occupied  by  "  king "  Hancock  and  "  citizen " 
Adams  is  the  one  on  the  lower  floor  on  the  left  of  the  entrance. 
Care  has  been  taken  to  preserve  its  original  appearance.  The 
woodwork,  of  Southern  pine,  has  remained  unpainted,  acquiring 
with  age  a  beautiful  color.  One  side  of  the  room  is  wainscoted 
up  to  the  ceiling,  the  remaining  walls  bearing  the  original  paper 
in  large  figures.  The  staircase  in  the  front  hall  has  also  re- 
mained innocent  of  paint,  and  is  handsome  enough  for  a  church. 
Age  has  given  to  the  carved  balusters  and  panelled  casings  a 
richness  and  depth  of  hue  that  scorns  the  application  of  any 
unnatural  pigment.  The  room  we  have  just  left  is  in  the  south- 
west corner  of  the  house.  Passing  to  the  opposite  side  of  the 
hall,  we  enter  the  best  room,  which  corresponds  in  finish  with 
that  just  described,  except  that  the  painter's  brush  has  been 
applied  to  the  wainscot  and  newer  paper  to  the  walls. 


366      HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

In  this  apartment  there  is  no  manner  of  doubt  Hancock 
courted  "  Dorothy  Q.,"  while  his  graver  friend  discussed  state- 
craft with  their  reverend  host,  or,  buried  in  thought,  paced 
up  and  down  the  grass-plot  by  the  roadside.  Dorothy,  the 
daughter  of  Judge  Edmund  Quincy  of  Braintree,  was  at  this 
time  living  in  the  house  under  the  protection  of  Madam  Lydia 
Hancock,  the  governor's  aunt.  When  turned  of  seventy  she 
had  a  lithe,  handsome  figure,  a  pair  of  laughing  eyes,  fine  yel- 
low ringlets  in  which  scarcely  a  gray  hair  could  be  seen,  and 
although  for  the  second  time  a  widow,  was  as  sprightly  as  a  girl 
of  sixteen.  What  her  youth  was  the  reader  will  be  at  no  loss 
to  infer.  Charming,  vivacious,  and  witty,  with  a  little  dash  of 
the  coquette  withal,  one  might  pardon  Colonel  Hancock,  late 
of  the  Boston  Cadets,  for  becoming  her  servant. 

Hancock  had  aspired  to  and  obtained  a  miUtary  rank.  He 
was  a  trifle  of  a  dandy  in  his  attire,  particularly  in  his  military 
garb,  when  his  points,  sword-knot,  and  lace  were  always  of  the 
newest  fashion,  and  rivalled  tliose  of  any  of  his  Majesty's  offi- 
cers. Gage  revoked  Hancock's  commission,  and  the  indignant 
corps  disbanded,  flinging  —  figuratively  —  the  governor's  stand- 
ard in  his  face,  which  made  him  as  mad  as  a  March  hare.  He 
is  supposed  to  give  his  wrath  utterance  in  verse  :  — 

**  Your  Colonel  H k  by  neglect, 

Has  been  deficient  in  respect ; 

As  he  my  sov'reign  toe  ne'er  kiss'd, 

'T  was  proper  he  should  be  dismissed  ; 

I  never  was  and  never  will 

By  mortal  man  be  treated  ill  ; 

I  never  was  nor  never  can, 

Be  treated  ill  by  moi-tal  man. 

O,  had  I  bnt  have  known  before 

The  temper  of  your  factions  core, 

It  should  have  been  my  greatest  pleasure, 

To  have  prevented  this  bold  measure. 

To  meet  with  such  severe  disgrace, 

My  standard  flung  into  my  face  ! 

Disband  yourselves  !  —  so  cursed  stout  ? 

O  had  I,  had  I,  turn'd  you  out !  " 

On  the  12th  of  June,  1775,  Governor  Gage  by  proclamation 


LECHMERE's   point   to   LEXINGTON.  367 

exempted  Hancock  and  Adams  from  his  offer  of  a  general  par- 
don, and  declared  all  persons  who  might  give  them  aid  or  shel- 
ter rebels  and  traitors.  Copies  of  this  document  were  posted  in 
all  the  public  places,  and  left  with  every  householder  in  the 
town  of  Boston.  Tliis  being  as  far  as  the  authority  of  the  royal 
governor  extended,  the  objects  of  his  paper  decree  were  never 
in  any  apprehension  of  their  personal  safety.  Outlawry  by  the 
king's  government  was  to  make  them  the  two  most  conspicuous 
figures  in  the  Colonies,  and  the  selection  of  Hancock  to  preside 
over  the  Continental  Congress  partook  largely  of  an  act  of 
bravado.  Trumbull's  burlesque  of  Gage's  proclamation,  which 
appeared  in  June,  1775,  evidently  formed  the  germ  of  his  hu- 
morous epic  of  MacFingal. 

Hancock's  martial  pride,  coupled,  perhaps,  with  the  feeling 
that  he  must  show  himself,  in  the  presence  of  his  lady  love,  a 
soldier  worthy  of  her  favor,  inclined  him  to  show  fight  when 
the  regulars  were  expected.  His  widow  related  that  it  was 
with  great  difficulty  that  herself  and  the  colonel's  aunt  kept 
him  from  facing  the  British  on  that  day.  While  the  bell  on 
the  Green  was  sounding  the  alarm,  Hancock  was  cleaning  his 
sword  and  fusee,  and  putting  his  accoutrements  in  order  ;  but 
at  length  the  importunities  of  the  ladies  and  the  urgency  of 
other  friends  prevailed,  and  he  retired  with  Adams  to  a  place 
of  concealment.  The  astute  Adams,  it  is  recounted,  a  little 
annoyed  perhaps  at  his  friend's  obstinacy,  clapped  him  on  the 
shoulder,  and  exclaimed,  looking  significantly  at  the  weapons, 
"  That  is  not  our  business  ;  we  belong  to  the  cabinet."  It  will 
now  be  easily  understood  by  the  reader  why  Hancock,  who  was 
also  a  relative  of  Eev.  Mr.  Clark,  chose  to  come  so  far  from 
Concord,  where  the  Congress  was  sitting,  to  lodge. 

The  patriots  first  repaired  to  the  hill,  then  wooded,  southeast 
of  Mr.  Clark's,  where  they  remained  until  the  troops  passed  on 
to  Concord.  They  were  afterwards  conducted  to  the  house  of 
Madam  Jones,  widow  of  Eev.  Thomas  Jones,  and  Rev.  Mr. 
Marrett,  in  Burlington.  From  here,  upon  a  new  alarm,  they 
retired  to  Mr.  Amos  Wyman's,  in  Billerica,  leaving  an  elegant 
repast,  to  which   tliey  had  just  sat   down,  untasted.     Revere, 


368      HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

after  his  misadventure  on  the  road  to  Concord,  rejoined  the 
patriots,  as  did  also  Madam  Hancock  and  her  niece. 

It  was  while  walking  in  the  fields  after  hearing  the  firing 
that  Adams  made  the  observation,  "  It  is  a  fine  day."  "  Very- 
pleasant,"  replied  one  of  his  companions,  supposing  him  to 
mean  the  glories  of  the  dawning  day.  "  I  mean,"  said  the 
patriot  seer,  "  this  day  is  a  glorious  day  for  America."  The 
veil  was  lifted,  and  perhaps  he  alofte  saw  the  end  of  which  this 
was  the  beginning.  During  the  firing  random  shots  whizzed 
past  the  house  he  had  quitted,  and  some  of  the  wounded  Amer- 
icans were  brought  into  it  to  have  their  hurts  cared  for.  The 
whole  affair  on  the  Common  was  visible  from  this  spot. 

The  house  in  which  we  have  been  loitering  was  built  by 
Thomas  Hancock,  the  Boston  merchant  of  whom  we  have 
already  had  occasion  to  speak.  He  was  not  born  until  1703, 
served  his  time  with  Henchman,  the  stationer,  and  had  not 
acquired  wealth  until  a  much  later  period  ;  so  that  we  suppose 
the  building  to  have  been  erected  about  1740,  and  not  earlier, 
as  has  been  stated  by  some.  Thomas  Hancock  did  not  build 
his  own  princely  mansion  in  Boston  until  1737.  He  was  the 
son  of  the  old  Bishop  Hancock,  as  he  was  called,  who  was  or- 
dained in  1698  over  a  society  which  then  inhabited  this  part 
of  Cambridge,  called  "  the  farms."  The  merchant,  as  soon  as 
his  position  enabled  him  to  do  it,  doubtless  looked  to  the  more 
convenient  housing  of  his  honored  parent,  who  received  his 
name  of  bishop  on  account  of  liis  great  influence  among  the 
ministers.     Lexington  was  incorporated  in  1712. 

The  best  room  communicates  with  the  ancient  or  original 
house,  which  is  seen  fronting  the  street  with  its  single  story 
and  picturesque  dormer  windows  and  roof.  This  part  was 
doubtless  built  by  the  bishop's  parishioners  soon  after  his  settle- 
ment. It  formerly  stood  nearer  the  high-road  until  the  new 
building  was  completed,  when  it  was  moved  back  and  joined 
upon  it.  The  house  is  a  veritable  curiosity,  and  would  not 
make  a  bad  dejDository  for  the  household  furniture  and  utensils 
of  the  period  to  which  it  belongs,  being  of  itself  so  unique  a 
specimen  of  early  New  England  architecture.     The  floors  and 


369 

wainscot  are  of  hard  wood,  upon  which  time  has  left  not  the 
least  evidence  of  decay.  The  farmers  clearly  meant  their  min- 
ister to  inhabit  a  house  of  a  better  sort  than  their  own,  as  is 
apparent  in  the  curious  panelling  of  the  outer  door,  which  still 
retains  its  original  fastenings,  and  in  the  folding  shutters  of  the 
little  study  at  the  back.  A  cramped  and  narrow  staircase  con- 
ducts to  the  chambers  above,  from  the  room  in  which  we  are 
standing.  The  same  old  dresser  is  attached  to  the  wall,  gar- 
nished of  yore  by  the  wooden  trenchers  and  scanty  blue  china 
of  the  good  bishop's  housekeeping.  Some  old  three-legged 
tables  are  the  only  other  relics  of  the  former  inhabitants.  This 
one  room,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  times,  served  as 
kitchen,  dining-room,  and  for  the  usual  avocations  of  the  family. 
The  little  study  has  the  narrow  windows  which  first  admitted 
light  upon  the  ponderous  folios  of  the  minister  or  the  half-writ- 
ten sheets  of  many  a  weighty  sermon.  And  perhaps  he  listened 
here  to  the  tale  of  domestic  wrong  wrung  in  bitterness  from 
some  aching  heart,  or  A\Testled  in  prayer  with  an  awakening 
but  stiU  struggling  spirit.  We  see  him  in  the  common  apartT 
ment  performing  the  marriage  rite  for  some  rustic  swain  and  his 
bride,  or  reading  aloud  the  news  from  the  metropolis,  which  he 
alone  of  all  the  viUage  receives.  Teacher,  guide,  parent,  and 
friend,  the  clergyman  of  the  olden  time  feared  not  to  preach  a 
political  sermon  or  lay  bare  the  abuses  of  society.  In  general, 
if  something  severe,  he  kept  himself  above  reproach  in  his  pri- 
vate life.  He  was  steadfast,  never  confounding  his  flock  with 
a  sudden  change  of  doctrine.  These  were  the  men  who  laid 
line  and  plummet  to  the  foundation-stone  of  New  England 
society,  and  we  yield  them  the  respect  their  teachings  have 
gained  for  her  sons. 

On  the  day  of  the  battle  the  clergymen  followed  their  parish- 
ioners to  the  field,  with  the  town  stores  of  ammunition,  which 
they  busied  themselves  in  distributing  from  their  chaises.  On 
the  Sunday  ensuing  those  who  had  taken  part  in  the  fray  stood 
up  in  the  aisles  of  the  churches,  —  many  with  bullet-holes  in 
their  garments,  —  while  thanks  were  publicly  oftered  for  their 
safe  return.  The  country  was  all  on  fire.  The  young  men 
16*  X 


370       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

hastened  to  array  themselves  for  the  war  that  was  seen  to  be 
inevitable.  "  Arms  !  "  was  the  cry,  "  give  us  arms  !  "  Hearken 
to  one  young,  ardent  spirit  :  "  I  would  not  be  without  a  gun  if 
it  costs  me  five  guineas,  as  I  shall  be  called  a  tory  or  something 
worse  if  I  am  without  one.  Pray  don't  fail  of  sending  me  a 
gun  !  a  gun  !  a  gun  and  bayonet ;  by  all  means  a  gun  !  a  gun  !  " 

At  the  celebration  in  1783  Hancock,  then  governor,  was 
present,  again  sojourning  at  Mr.  Clark's.  At  the  appointed 
time  Captain  Munroe  appeared  with  his  com23any,  and  escorted 
his  Excellency  to  the  meeting-house,  where  Rev.  Mr.  Adams  of 
Lunenburgh  preached  the  anniversary  sermon.  Cannon  were 
fired,  and  the  United  States  flag  hoisted  at  sunrise  over  Cap- 
tain Brown's,  and  near  the  spot  where  the  militia  were  slain. 
The  Rev.  Mr.  Clark  has  recounted  the  events  of  the  day,  which 
he  witnessed  in  part  from  his  own  house. 

The  old  burial-ground  of  Lexington  is  so  secluded  that  the 
stranger  might  pass  it  without  suspecting  its  vicinity,  if  some 
friendly  hand  did  not  guide  him  to  the  spot.  It  Hes  back  of 
the  Unitarian  Church,  and  is  reached  by  a  little  avenue  from 
the  street.  We  looked  for  the  older  graves  here  with  the  same 
ill  success  which  has  befallen  in  many  similar  places.  The 
"  forefathers  of  the  hamlet  "  have  scarcely  left  their  traces  upon 
the  stones.  There  is  a  handsome  marble  monument  over  the 
remains  of  Governor  Eustis,  erected  by  his  widow,  the  daughter 
of  Hon.  Woodbury  Langdon  of  Portsmouth.  She  lived  to  the 
great  age  of  eighty-four,  and  now  reposes  by  the  side  of  her 
husband.  The  stone  for  the  governor's  monument  was  quarried 
in  the  Berkshire  Hills. 

The  noise  which  the  battle  of  Lexington  made  reached  Eng- 
land. A  subscription  was  raised  in  London  and  forwarded  for 
the  relief  of  the  widows  and  orphans  of  those  who  fell  here  and 
all  along  the  blood-stained  road.  Walpole  deplored  it  in  a  let- 
ter to  Sir  Horace  Mann,  and  Rogers,  the  poet's  father,  put  on 
mourning.  The  fatal  news  was  carried  from  Salem  to  England 
by  Richard  Derby,  reaching  there  May  29. 


LEXINGTON   TO   CONCORD.  371 


CHAPTEE    XVII. 

LEXINGTON    TO    CONCORD. 

"  Why,  our  battalia  trebles  that  account  ; 
Besides,  the  king's  name  is  a  tower  of  strength, 
Which  they  upon  the  adverse  faction  want." 

Shakespeare. 

TT  would  be  difficult  to  imagine  a  more  beautiful  Indian 
summer's  day  than  tbat  on  which  we  marched  from  Lexing- 
ton to  Concord  with  the  ghosts  of  Colonel  Smith's  command. 
A  heavy  frost  still  incrusted  the  grasses  and  shrubbery  by  the 
wayside,  but  the  energetic  rays  of  the  sun  speedily  transformed 
the  beautiful  crystal  masses  into  commonplace  grass  and  shrub. 
Some  respectable  hills,  now  made  more  passable  by  nearly  a 
hundred  years'  labor  of  the  sturdy  tax-payers  of  old  Middle- 
sex, must  have  tried  the  sinews  of  the  king's  troops,  already 
wearied  with  their  ten  miles  of  hurried  tramp  from  Lechmere's 
Point.  They  may  have  paused,  as  we  did,  on  the  summit  of  the 
highest  of  these,  to  breathe  awhile  and  glance  at  the  glistening 
white  tower  of  Bedford  Church,  before  descending  into  the 
plain  of  Concord. 

The  road  over  which  the  troops  marched  and  retreated  is  in 
some  places  disused,  except  for  the  accommodation  of  the  neigh- 
boring farm-houses.  Fiske's  Hill,  a  high  eminence  a  mile  and 
a  third  from  Lexington,  is  now  avoided  altogether.  Another 
segment  of  the  old  highway,  grass-grown  and  roughened  by  the 
washings  of  many  winters,  enters  the  main  road  at  an  abandoned 
lime-kiln,  before  you  reach  the  Brooks  tavern.  In  this  vicinity 
one  of  the  severest  actions  of  the  1 9th  of  April  was  fought. 

It  was  in  the  days  of  the  epizootic,  and  the  highway  was  as 
deserted  as  could  have  been  desired  for  our  purpose.  Proceeding 
onward,  a  farm-house  almost  always  in  view,  there  seemed  a 


372       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

sort  of  fascination  in  the  old,  moss-grown,  tumble-down  stone- 
walls. No  great  stretch  of  imagination  was  necessary  to  con- 
vert them  into  the  ramparts  of  a  century  ago,  behind  which  the 
rustic  warriors  crouched  and  levelled  the  deadly  tubes. 

A  grand  old  elm  standing  sentinel  at  the  entrance  of  the 
town  may  have  murmured  a  challenge  to  the  advancing  war,  or 
waved  back  the  scarlet  array  with  its  then  youthful  arms.  But 
the  goal  was  almost  reached.  The  officers  tighten  their  sword- 
belts  ;  the  men  fasten  their  gaiters  and  fix  their  grenadier  caps 
more  firmly.     Onward  ! 

The  high  hill  around  which  the  road  winds  as  it  enters 
Concord  is  the  position  from  Avhich  the  Americans  viewed  the 
approach  of  the  regulars,  and  which  was  immediately  occupied 
by  a  British  detachment.  By  his  spies  Smith  knew  the  places 
where  the  munitions  were  deposited.  The  bands  disperse  to 
their  allotted  work. 

Concord  is  one  of  those  places  which,  not  having  any  scenic 
features  sufficiently  marked  to  arrest  the  tourist,  has  yet  found 
—  and  this  apart  from  its  battle  reminiscences  —  a  grouj^  of 
■writers  who  have  made  it  one  of  exceeding  and  wide-spread 
attractiveness,  so  that  no  town  in  !N'ew  England,  we  ^Yil\  ven- 
ture to  say,  is  so  well  known  to  the  world  in  general.  And 
this,  as  in  the  play  which  but  for  the  excellent  acting  would 
be  doomed  to  fatal  mediocrity,  is  what  Emerson,  Hawthorne, 
Channing,  Thoreau,  Al(;ott,  pere  and  Jille,  with  others  unnamed, 
have  done  for  quiet,  inland  Concord.  Nature  knew  it  in  the 
commonplace  pastoral  sense.  War  left  the  print  of  her  bloody 
hand  there.  Man's  intellect  has  breathed  upon  it,  and  clothed 
it  with  such  beauty  that  we  seem  to  see  gems  sparkling  in  the 
drifts  of  gravel,  nuggets  ..niong  the  river's  sands,  and  feel  an 
uncontrollable  desire  to  view  for  ourselves  all  those  objects  by 
which  our  interest  has  been  fixed  while  regarding  the  picture 
from  a  distance.  And  a  closer  acquaintance  confirms  our  pre- 
possession. 

At  the  very  entrance  of  the  town,  but  at  the  distance  of  about 
a  mile  from  the  public  square,  are  several  dwellings  consecrated 
by  pleasant  memories.     The  hill  itself,  a  brave  old  headland, 


LEXINGTON    TO    CONCORD.  373 

throws  its  protecting  arm  around  tlie  northern  and  eastern  sec- 
tion of  the  settled  portion  of  Concord.  Were  a  second  invasion 
of  the  place  ever  again  to  occur,  a  few  pieces  of  cannon  posted 
here  would,  with  the  possession  of  some  outlying  hills,  effectu- 
ally command  the  approaches  and  the  town  itself  The  hill-top 
forms  a  generally  level  plateau,  sinking  gradually  away  near 
the  northerly  extremity  of  the  public  square,  where  a  section 
of  it  has  been  removed  to  place  in  orderly  array  some  handsome 
buildings.  Following  the  base  of  the  hill  through  the  town, 
with  your  face  to  the  north,  you  arrive  at  the  site  of  the  old 
North  Bridge,  of  which  hereafter.  Upon  the  summit  and 
slopes  of  this  eminence  is  the  ancient  burial-place,  considered 
by  many  the  oldest  in  Concord.  Here  you  may  command  a 
superb  view  of  the  town  at  your  feet ;  of  Concord  Eiver,  with 
its  fertile  meadows ;  and  of  the  hills  wliich  rise  and  stretch 
away  along  the  northwest,  where  the  Americans  rallied  after 
retreating  from  the  town,  and  gathered  strength  for  their  onset. 
In  this  same  hillside  the  first  settlers  burrowed  in  caves ;  and 
we  are  left  not  only  to  wonder  at  their  endurance,  but  to  mar- 
vel at  the  patience  and  humility  with  which  they  recount  their 
privations.  The  hill  was  the  key  to  Concord  in  1775,  and  the 
British  seized  and  held  it  until  they  evacuated  the  place. 

The  yellowish-brown  house,  with  its  pointed  gables  and  its 
square  tower  between,  is  that  in  which  Hawthorne  lived  after 
his  return  from  his  English  considate.  The  house  itself  is  al- 
most hid  from  view  among  the  masses  of  evergi'een  by  which 
it  is  surrounded.  For  some  distance  a  cool  walk  skirts  the 
street,  —  a  row  of  thickly-set  larches  next  the  road,  ^vith  an 
inner  rank  of  firs  or  spruces.  These  trees  were  set  out  by 
Hawthorne.  Back  of  the  house,  and  dominating  above  it,  the 
hill  ascends  in  terraces,  but  so  densely  is  it  covered  with  ever- 
green-trees, planted  by  Alcott  when  he  lived  here,  as  to  resem- 
ble nothing  more  than  a  young  forest  of  native  growth.  The 
character  of  the  trees  which  Hawthorne  chose  to  have  about 
him  conveys  the  idea  that  he  loved  their  constant  verdure  and 
balmy  breath,  if,  indeed,  he  was  not  susceptible  to  tlie  subtle 
and  saddening  influence  of  the  bared  and  wintry  arms  of  the 
statelier  woodland  varieties. 


374       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

Partly  ancient  and  in  part  modern,  the  novelist's  dwelling 
has  little  or  nothing  peculiar  to  itself  except  the  before-men- 
tioned tower,  which  he  built  in  defiance  of  architectural  rules 
on  the  top  of  the  house.  Towards  the  road,  this  retreat  over- 
looked a  broad  reach  of  sloping  meadow  in  the  highest  state  of 
tillage.  Hill  and  dale,  stream  and  pool,  with  all  those  concom- 
itants of  New  England  landscape  which  the  artist  so  well  knew 
how  to  weave  into  his  pen-pictures,  are  here  in  the  charming 
prospect.  From  the  back  window  appeared  the  dark  masses  of 
evergreens  with  their  needles  glistening  in  the  sun.  As  we 
looked  out  of  the  little  study,  we  could  not  believe  pagan  ever 
worsliipped  fire  more  than  Hawthorne  loved  nature. 

We  are  told  that  the  astrologers  of  old  always  pursued  their 
studies  of  the  heavens  from  some  lofty  castle-turret,  whither 
the  would-be  questioner  of  Fate  was  conducted,  bewildered  by 
long,  winding  staircases,  to  find  himself  at  last  in  the  wizard's 
cabinet,  confronted  by  all  his  unearthly  and  startling  parapher- 
nalia. A  corner  of  the  arras  is  lifted,  and  the  man  of  destiny 
appears. 

Ascending  to  Hawthorne's  watch-tower  of  genius,  the  eye  is 
first  arrested  by  two  cupboards  of  stained  wood,  standing  on 
either  side  of  the  single  window  with  which  the  rear  wall  is 
furnished.  These  closets  are  each  decorated  with  a  motto  in 
white  paint,  as  follows  :  "  All  care  abandon  ye  that  enter  here  "  ; 
"There  is  no  joy  but  calm."  Above  the  window  is  the  one 
word,  "Olympus."  This,  then,  thought  we,  is  the  abode  of 
the  gods,  —  the  summit  sung  by  Homer  and  the  poets.  En- 
closing the  stairs  is  a  pine  box  with  such  a  movable  shelf  as  is 
sometimes  seen  in  a  country  school-house,  appropriated  to  the 
village  pedagogue.  This  was  Hawthorne's  desk,  at  which  he 
is  said  to  have  written  "  Septimius  Felton,"  the  last  of  his  works. 
Perched  upon  a  high  stool,  with  his  back  to  the  landscape,  and 
his  face  resolutely  turned  towards  his  blank  wall  of  stained  deal, 
we  may  picture  the  sorcerer,  with  massive,  careworn  brow  and 
features  of  the  true  Puritan  stamp,  tracing  the  horoscope  of  his 
fleshless  creations.  The  house  having  now  become  a  boarding- 
school  for  young  ladies,  kept  by  Miss  Pratt,  the  study  is  appro- 


LEXINGTON   TO   CONCORD.  375 

priated  as  a  sleeping-apartment  for  school-girls,  whose  dreams 
are  not  disturbed  by  its  former  celestial  occupants. 

Franklin  Pierce,  the  college  chum  of  Hawthorne  at  Bowdoin, 
came  here  to  visit  his  old  friend,  whom  he  had  given  a  highly 
lucrative  appointment  abroad.  The  "  Scarlet  Letter"  was  pro- 
duced while  Hawthorne  was  surveyor  of  the  port  of  Salem 
under  General  Miller,  the  old  hero  of  Lundy's  Lane.  With 
his  intimates,  in  the  days  of  his  custom-house  experience,  — 
and  they  were  confined  to  a  chosen  few,  —  he  was  less  taciturn 
than  he  afterwards  became.  But  even  among  these  he  often 
appeared  absent,  gloomy,  and  misanthropical,  as  if  some  disap- 
pointment weighed  ujjon  him  and  had  despoiled  him  of  his 
young  manhood. 

Our  author  is  one  of  those  figures  best  contemplated  from 
a  distant  stand-point,  as  some  tall  peak,  lifting  itself  above 
its  lesser  companions  from  afar,  sinks  into  the  general  mass  at 
a  nearer  approach,  giving  no  token  of  the  subterranean  fires 
that  glow  within  its  foundations.  We  know  him  better  by  his 
works  than  by  actual  contact  with  himself,  but  we  have  not  had 
in  America  a  mind  of  so  antique  a  stamp  as  his,  even  if  his 
imaginings  are  something  weird,  and  his  characters  partake 
largely  of  the  attributes  of  spectres  who  walk  the  earth  because 
the  master  wills  it. 

Some  of  Hawthorne's  productions,  when  a  lad  of  fourteen, 
and  thought  to  be  authentic,  have  lately  come  to  light.  It  ap- 
pears that  his  literary  tastes  were  first  stimulated  by  an  uncle, 
the  brother  of  his  mother,  who  resided  at  Raymond,  Maine, 
whither  Mrs.  Hawthorne  had  removed  after  her  husband's 
death,  at  Havana,  of  yellow-fever.  These  early  effusions,  which 
are  descriptive  of  some  of  the  events  of  his  life  in  Maine,  do 
not  exhibit  any  of  those  flashes  of  genius  for  which  the  man 
was  famous,  although  excellent  pieces  of  composition  for  a  youth 
in  his  teens.  Hawthorne  there  speaks  of  the  spur  which  his 
Uncle  Richard's  praises  gave  him. 

Hawthorne's  intellect  was  too  fine  for  the  multitude.  His 
plane  did  not  conduct  to  the  popular  heart.  His  writings  teem 
with  sombre  tints,  and  oftenest  lead  to  a  tragic  termination  ; 


376      HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

but  his  fancies  are  always  striking  and  his  descriptions  often 
marvellous.  He  seemed  to  walk  apart,  in  an  atmosphere  of  his 
own,  seldom,  if  ever,  giving  note  of  what  was  witliin.  Burns 
was  an  exciseman,  and  Hawthorne  a  ganger.  Both  were  given 
to  convivial  indulgence,  but  the  Scotsman's  mood  was  in  gen- 
eral less  gloomy  than  the  American's. 

Adjoinmg  Hawthorne's  are  the  house  and  grounds  of  A. 
Bronson  Alcott.  Curtis  has  indulged  in  some  quiet  pleasantry 
at  the  expense  of  the  practical  cast  of  the  philosopher's  mind  as 
applied  to  rural  architecture,  but  for  our  own  part,  after  having 
trampled  half  New  England  under  foot,  we  can  commend  the 
taste  which  Alcott  has  applied  to  the  restoration  of  his  dwelling, 
l^ot  so,  however,  with  the  rustic  fence  which  separates  his  do- 
main from  the  road.  It  appears  to  have  been  composed  of  the 
relics  of  sylvan  surgery,  the  pieces  being  selected  with  reference 
to  knobs,  fungi,  and  excrescences.  This  is  not  what  we  should 
call  putting  one's  best  foot  foremost  by  any  means.  Who  likes 
to  think  of  a  Dryad  with  a  wart  on  her  nose,  or  a  woodland 
nymph  with  a  hump  'I 

Apropos  of  trees,  they  bear  their  ills  as  well  as  poor  human- 
ity. Go  into  the  forest  and  see  how  many  are  erect  and  robust 
and  how  many  bent  and  sickly.  One  in  a  hundred,  perhaps, 
is  a  perfect  specimen,  the  remaining  ninety  and  nine  are  subject 
to  some  blemish.  Nevertheless  we  do  not  advocate  the  collec- 
tion of  the  diseased  members  by  the  wayside. 

Alcott  has  been,  and  still  is,  a  pattern  of  industry.  He  is  one 
of  the  few  men  who  have  kept  a  daily  journal  of  passing  events, 
in  itself  a  work  of  no  small  labor  and  value.  A  walking  ency- 
clopaedia, he  is  frequently  consulted  for  a  date  or  an  incident. 
"  I  wish,"  said  Webster,  "  I  had  kept  a  record  of  my  hfe." 
And  who  does  not  echo  the  wish  1 

When  Alcott  was  keeping  school  at  Cheshire,  in  Connecticut, 
the  fame  of  his  original  plan  of  instruction  came  to  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  late  Samuel  J.  May,  who  invited  him  to  visit  him, 
in  order  to  know  more  of  the  man  whom  he  felt  assured  must 
be  a  genius.  The  result  of  this  visit  was  an  attachment  be- 
tween Mr.  Alcott  and  Mr.  May's  sister,  Abigail,  which  led  to 
their  marriage  in  1830.     Says  Mr.  May  :  — 


LEXINGTON    TO    CONCORD.  377 

"  I  have  never,  but  in  one  other  instance,  been  so  completely  taken 
possession  of  by  any  man  I  have  ever  met  in  life.  He  seemed  to  me 
like  a  born  sage  and  saint.  He  was  radical  in  all  matters  of  reform  ; 
went  to  the  root  of  all  things,  especially  the  subjects  of  education, 
mental  and  moral  culture.  If  his  biography  shall  ever  be  written 
by  one  who  can  appreciate  him,  and  especially  if  his  voluminous 
writings  shall  be  properly  published,  it  will  be  known  how  unique 
he  was  in  wisdom  and  purity." 

It  is  well  known  that  Alcott  was  among  the  little  band  of 
antislavery  reformers,  or  agitators,  as  they  were  called  twenty 
odd  years  ago.  So  deeply  was  he  impressed  with  the  wicked- 
ness of  supporting  a  government  which  recognized  slavery,  that 
he  refused  to  pay  his  poll-tax.  As  a  consequence,  one  day  an 
officer  came  with  a  warrant  and  arrested  the  philosopher.  His 
loving  wife  soon  packed  a  little  tin  pail  of  provisions,  adapted 
to  the  wants  of  a  vegetarian  in  seclusion,  with  which  Alcott 
contentedly  trudged  off  to  jail.  Arrived  here,  the  officer  de- 
livered his  prisoner  up,  but  the  person  in  charge,  astonished  to 
see  Alcott  there,  invited  him  to  sit  down  in  the  waiting-room 
until  his  cell  could  be  made  ready.  Word  was  then  sent  to  one 
of  Alcott's  friends,  said  to  be  Samuel  Hoar,  who  came  forward 
and  paid  the  tax.  Whereat  Alcott  waxed  indignant,  for  he 
was  as  anxious  to  get  into  jail  as  most  men  would  be  to  get  out 
of  it.  He  stood  on  high  moral,  if  not  financial  grounds,  and 
had  no  idea  of  rendering  unto  Caesar  the  sinews  of  evil.  So 
the  example  was  lost,  the  wheels  of  government  moved  on  un- 
clogged,  and  Alcott  mournfully  returned  to  his  home. 

At  the  time  of  this  episode  the  idea  of  communities  was  a  fa- 
vorite project  with  the  transcendentahsts.  Brook  Farm  did  not 
go  far  enough  for  philosophers  of  the  ultra  school,  like  Emerson 
and  Alcott.  They  carried  individualism  to  the  point  which  per- 
mits the  citizen  to  choose,  absolutely,  the  form  of  government 
under  which  he  shall  live.  They  refused  animal  food,  agreed  by 
tacit  league  and  covenant  not  to  make  use  of  the  products  of 
.slavery  or  pay  taxes,  and  believed  they  could  get  along  without 
money.  The  experiment  at  Harvard  resulted,  and  was  in  less 
than  a  year  abandoned  by  its  projectors,  who  may,  nevertheless, 


378      HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

claim  the  merit  of  having  put  their  design  into  actual  execution 
while  others  have  only  dreamed  and  talked. 

Alcott,  with  the  other  reformers,  has  realized  that  society  is 
not  to  be  improved  by  seceding  from  it.  He  and  they  are  now 
at  work  within  the  hive,  talking,  writing,  printing,  and  making 
use  of  the  appliances  they  were  once  so  ready  to  surrender. 
Alcott  is  above  six  feet,  and  but  little  bent,  although  he  has 
exceeded  his  threescore  and  ten.  His  silver  hairs  and  dignified 
appearance  render  him  an  object  of  respectful  curiosity,  whom 
few  pass  without  turning  for  a  second  glance  at  his  tall  figure. 
He  speaks  with  earnestness  and  simplicity,  conveying  the  idea 
of  a  man  thoroughly  honest  in  his  convictions,  pure  in  his 
motives,  and  faithful  in  his  friendships. 

Alcott  inhabits  an  old  house,  which  he  has  made  very  com- 
fortable without  destroying  its  distinctive  antique  character. 
His  grounds  reach  back  into  the  hillside,  which  here  seems  in- 
dented on  purpose  for  a  romantic  little  dell.  The  authoress  of 
"  Little  Women  "  has,  we  are  told,  christened  the  place  "  Apple 
Slump,"  wherefore,  O  reader,  demand  of  the  sibyl,  not  of  us. 
Two  patriarchal  elms,  with  rustic  seats  at  the  foot,  are  the 
guardians  of  Alcott's  home, — just  such  a  one  in  which  you 
would  look  for  an  honest,  hearty  Avelcome,  and  find  it. 

One  of  Mr.  Alcott's  daughters,  Louisa  May,  has  made  a  broad 
and  strong  mark  with  her  pen.  The  world  knows  from  her 
that  there  are  old-fashioned  girls  with  hearts  and  brains,  and 
little  women  with  great  souls.  Another  daughter,  May  Alcott, 
has  taken  up  the  pencil  with  much  promise.  The  young  ar- 
tist's little  nook  of  a  studio,  to  which  we  were  admitted,  had 
been  transformed  by  household  exigencies  into  purposes  rather 
grosser  than  those  of  art,  but  by  no  means  to  be  despised  on 
that  account.  Some  of  her  sketches  on  the  walls  and  a  glance 
into  her  portfolio  reveal  talent  and  industry,  either  of  which  may 
deserve,  while  both  together  are  certain  to  command,  success. 

At  the  intersection  of  the  Lexington  with  the  old  Boston 
road  is  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson's  dwelling,  built  in  1828  by 
Charles  Coolidge,  grandson  of  Joseph  Coolidge,  one  of  the  mag- 
nates of  the  West  End  of  Old  Boston,  where  he  had  a  fine 


LEXINGTON   TO   CONCORD.  379 

estate.  It  is  a  coincidence  which  led  Samuel  Parkman,  another 
old-time  resident  of  Bowdoin  Square  in  that  town,  to  inhabit 
the  ancient  rough-cast  house  which  stands  somewhat  farther  on 
by  the  burying-ground.  The  Coolidge  house  passed  into  Mr. 
Emerson's  possession  in  1835.  It  is  a  plain,  square  building, 
painted  a  light  color,  which  you  would  pass  without  notice  un- 
less apprised  of  its  distinguished  occupant.  By  some  accident 
the  house  was  badly  injured  by  fire,  but  has,  during  Mr.  Emer- 
son's late  absence  in  Europe,  been  skilfully  restored  to  its  for- 
mer appearance. 

In  the  grove  of  pines  which  stands  at  the  extremity  of  Mr. 
Emerson's  grounds,  Alcott  erected  with  his  own  hands  the 
summer-house  which  Curtis  says  was  not  technically  based  and 
pointed,  but  which  he  still  speaks  of  with  evident  pride.  As 
no  vestiges  of  it  now  remain,  we  infer  that  it  fulfilled  the 
adverse  destiny  predicted  for  it. 

There  is  amusement  and  instruction  in  the  story  of  how,  at 
Emerson's  suggestion,  Hawthorne,  Alcott,  Thoreau,  and  Curtis 
met  at  his  liouse  for  mutual  interchange  of  ideas.  The  plan 
was  excellent,  the  failure  complete.  The  elements  for  spark- 
ling wit  or  brilliant  thought  Avere  there,  but  the  combination 
would  not  take  place.  In  vain  Emerson,  with  his  keen  and 
polished  lance,  struck  the  shield  of  each  with  its  point.  Only 
a  dull  thud  resulted,  instead  of  the  expected  coruscation.  Haw- 
thorne was  mute,  while  the  rest  struggled  manfully  but  in  vain 
to  produce  the  ethereal  spark.    Three  Mondays  finished  the  club. 

Some  of  Mr.  Emerson's  pupils,  when  he  kept  school  in  the 
old  house  at  Cambridge,  are  now  v>^hite-haired  men,  who  recall 
with  a  smile  how,  for  discipline's  sake,  they  were  sometimes 
sent  into  the  Widow  Emerson's  room  to  study.  As  a  teacher 
he  was  mild  and  gentle,  leaving  agreeable  impressions  on  the 
minds  of  his  scholars.  The  school  was  in  Brattle  Street,  oppo- 
site the  Brattle  House. 

Thoreau,  the  hermit-naturalist,  lived  in  a  house  built  by  him- 
self in  1 845  on  the  shore  of  Walden  Pond,  his  literary  friends 
helping  him  one  afternoon  to  raise  it.  It  is  said  he  never  went 
to  church,  never  voted,  and  never  ]>aid  a  tax  in  the  State  ;  for 


380       HISTORIC   FIELDS    iiND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

which  contempt  of  the  tax-gatherer  he  passed  at  least  one  night 
in  jail.  It  is  evident  from  his  writings  that  Thoreau  gloried 
in  Nature,  and  that  his  soul  expanded  while  he  communed  with 
her.  She  was  his  meat  and  drink.  He  craved  no  other  society, 
putting  to  flight  in  his  own  person  the  crystallized  idea  that 
man  is  a  gregarious  animal.  He  calls  upon  hill  and  stream  as 
if  they  would  reply,  and  in  truth  the  Book  of  Nature  was  never 
shut  to  him.  A  revival  of  interest  in  the  character  of  Thoreau 
is  manifest,  an  interest  Avhich  no  man  is  better  able  to  satisfy 
than  his  friend  Channing. 

George  William  Curtis  was  for  a  time  a  resident  of  Concord, 
and  Lieutenant  Derby,  better  remembered  as  "  John  Phoenix," 
beyond  comparison  the  keenest  of  our  American  humorists,  it  is 
said  some  time  tended  a  shop  here.  Frederick  Hudson,  author 
of  "  Journalism  in  America,"  was  also  an  inhabitant  of  this  town. 

Concord,  on  the  day  of  invasion  in  1775,  although  a  place 
of  considerable  importance,  contained  but  few  houses  scattered 
over  a  wide  area.  The  old  meeting-house,  similar  in  appear- 
ance to  the  one  at  Lexington,  stood  in  its  present  position. 
A  square  building  at  the  corner  of  Main  Street  and  the  Com- 
mon, was  then  known  as  Wright's  Tavern,  and  was  the  alarm- 
post  of  the  provincials.  This  house  alone,  of  those  standing 
along  this  side  of  the  Square  at  that  time,  is  still  remaining. 
On  the  opposite  corner  of  Main  Street,  where  is  now  the  Mid- 
dlesex Hotel,  was  Dr.  Minott's  residence.  Between  this  and 
the  engine-house,  on  ground  now  lying  between  the  latter  and 
the  priest's  house  (formerly  known  as  the  county  house),  was 
the  old  court-house,  built  in  1719,  a  square  building  with  little 
old-fashioned  belfry,  steeple,  and  weather-vane,  bearing  the  date 
of  1673.  The  northerly  end  of  the  public  square  was  occupied 
by  the  residence  of  Colonel  Shattuck,  Avhich,  with  some  altera- 
tion, is  still  on  the  same  spot.  This  brings  us  to  the  point  of 
the  hill,  previously  described,  around  which  the  road  wound  to 
the  river,  which  it  passed  by  the  North  Bridge.  At  this  point, 
where  the  road  diverges  from  the  Square,  Mr.  Keyes's  house 
formerly  stood.  Since  1794  the  court-house  has  occupied  the 
side  of  the  Square  opposite  its  old  location,  while  the  jail  was 


LEXINGTON    TO    CONCORD.  881 

removed  from  its  situation  on  Main  Street  to  its  late  site  in  the 
rear  of  and  between  the  Middlesex  Hotel  and  the  priest's.  The 
house  described  as  Minott's  became,  after  the  war,  a  tavern 
kept  by  John  Eichardson  of  I^^ewton.  At  no  great  distance 
from  the  soldiers'  monument  stands  a  magnihcent  elm,  which 
once  served  as  the  whipping-post  to  which  culprits  were  tied  up. 
Main  Street,  which  we  now  propose  to  follow  a  certain  dis- 
tance, conducted  towards  the  South  Bridge  which  crossed  the 
river  by  Hosmer's.  In  1775  it  was  merely  a  causeway  leading 
to  the  grist-mill  which  then  stood  on  the  spot  now  occupied  by 
Mr.  Collyer,  next  the  Bank  and  opposite  Walden  Street.  A 
few  steps  farther  and  you  reach  the  second  of  the  burial- 
places  in  the  town,  in  which  lie  the  remains  of  gallant  John 
Hosmer,  who,  "although  in  arms  at  the  battle  of  Concord  and 
a  soldier  of  the  Continental  Army,  was  in  all  his  life  after  a 
man  of  peace."  Beyond  the  burying-ground  was  the  second 
situation  of  the  jail  built  here  in  1 770.  It  was  a  wooden  build- 
ing with  gambrel  roof,  standing  on  the  estate  of  Mr.  Eeuben 
Rice.  On  the  same  estate  was  the  old  tavern  formerly  known  as 
Hartwell  Bigelow's.  Prior  to  the  erection  of  the  first  jail  in 
1754,  prisoners  were  confined  in  Cambridge  and  Charlesto^vn. 
Concord,  having  ceased  to  be  one  of  the  shire  towns  of  Middle- 
sex, now  contains  neither  jail  nor  malefactors. 

In  1775  the  tavern  mentioned  as  Bigelow's  was  kept  by 
Captain  Ephraim  Jones,  who  had  also  charge  of  the  jail.  Gen- 
eral Gage  wrote  home  to  England  that  the  people  of  Concord 
were  "sulky"  while  his  troops  were  breaking  open  their  houses, 
flinging  their  property  into  the  mill-pond,  and  killing  their 
friends  and  neighbors  !  Of  what  stuff  the  inhabitants  of  Con- 
cord were  made  in  the  estimation  of  the  king's  officer  we  are 
unable  to  conjecture,  but  we  have  his  word  for  it  that  they 
were  "  sulky,  and  one  of  them  even  struck  Major  Pitcairn." 
Ephraim  Jones  was  the  man.  He  should  have  a  monument  for 
the  blow. 

Pitcairn  went  straight  to  Jones's  tavern,  where  he  had  often 
lodged,  sometimes  in  disguise.  This  time  he  found  the  door 
shut  and  fastened.     As  Jones  refused  to  open,  Pitcairn  ordered 


382       HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

his  grenadiers  to  break  down  the  door,  and,  being  the  first  to 
enter,  rushed  against  Jones  with  such  violence  as  to  overthrow 
the  unlucky  innkeeper,  who  was  put  under  guard  in  his  own 
bar,  while  Pitcairn,  with  a  pistol  at  his  breast,  commanded  him 
to  divulge  the  places  where  the  stores  were  concealed.  The 
crestfallen  Boniface  led  the  way  to  the  prison,  where  the  British 
were  surprised  to  find  three  24-pounders  in  the  yard,  completely 
furnished  with  everything  necessary  for  mounting.  The  Major 
destroyed  the  carriages,  knocked  off  the  trunnions  of  the  guns ; 
and  then,  feeling  his  usual  good-humor  return  with  certain 
gnawings  of  his  stomach,  retraced  his  steps  to  the  tavern  and 
demanded  breakfast,  of  wliich  he  ate  heartily  and  for  which  he 
paid  exactly.  Jones  resumed  his  role  of  innkeeper,  and  found 
his  revenge  in  the  transfer  of  many  silver  shillings  bearing 
King  George's  effigy  from  the  breeches  pockets  of  the  king's 
men  to  his  own  greasy  till. 

The  jail  is  also  connected  with  another  incident  of  interest. 
A  battalion  of  the  71st  Highlanders,  which  had  sailed  from 
Glasgow  in  the  George  and  Annabella  transports,  entered  Bos- 
ton Bay,  after  a  passage  of  seven  weeks,  during  which  they  had 
not  spoken  a  single  vessel  to  apprise  them  of  the  evacuation. 
They  were  attacked  in  the  bay  by  privateers,  which  they  beat 
oft'  after  being  engaged  from  morning  until  evening.  Tlie  trans- 
ports then  boldly  entered  Nantasket  Road,  where  one  of  our 
batteries  gave  them  the  first  intimation  that  the  port  was  in 
possession  of  the  Americans.  After  a  gallant  resistance  the  ves- 
sels were  forced  to  strike  their  colors.  The  Highlanders,  under 
the  orders  of  their  lieutenant-colonel,  Archibald  Campbell, 
fought  with  intrepidity,  losing  their  major,  Menzies,  and  seven 
privates  killed,  besides  seventeen  wounded.  Menzies  was  buried 
in  Boston  with  the  honors  of  war,  and  Campbell  sent  a  prisoner 
to  Eeading,  while  the  men  were  distributed  among  the  interior 
towns  for  safety. 

This  regiment,  raised  at  the  commencement  of  the  American 
war,  was  one  of  the  most  famous  levied  among  the  Highland 
clans.  It  was  composed  of  two  battalions,  each  twelve  hundred 
strong,  and  was  commanded  by  Simon  Eraser,  the  son  of  that 


LEXINGTON   TO   CONCORD.  383 

Lord  Lovat  who  had  been  beheaded  in  1747  for  supporting  the 
Pretender's  cause.  Each  battalion  was  completely  officered,  and 
commanded  by  a  colonel.  Another  Simon  Fraser  was  colonel 
of  the  second  battalion,  —  the  same  of  which  the  larger  number 
were  captured  in  Boston  Bay. 

There  was  a  great  desire  to  enlist  in  this  new  regiment,  more 
men  offering  than  could  be  accepted.  One  company  of  one 
hundred  and  twenty  men  had  been  raised  on  the  forfeited  estate 
of  Cameron  of  Lochiel,  wliich  he  was  to  command.  Lochiel 
was  ill  in  London,  and  unable  to  join.  His  men  refused  to 
embark  without  him,  but  after  being  addressed  with  persuasive 
eloquence,  in  Gaelic,  by  General  Fraser,  they  returned  to  their 
duty.  While  their  commander  was  speaking,  an  old  High- 
lander, who  had  accompanied  his  son  to  Glasgow,  was  leaning 
on  his  staff,  gazing  at  the  General  with  gxeat  earnestness.  When 
he  had  finished  the  old  man  walked  up  to  him  and  said,  famil- 
iarly, "  Simon,  you  are  a  good  fellow,  and  speak  like  a  man. 
As  long  as  you  live  Simon  of  Lovat  will  never  die." 

When  Sir  William  Howe  refused  to  exchange  General  Lee, 

—  and  it  was  reported  he  had  been  placed  in  close  confinement, 

—  Congress  ordered  a  retaliation  in  kind.  Campbell,  one  of  the 
victims,  was  brought  to  Concord,  and  lodged  in  the  jail  of 
which  we  are  writing.  His  treatment  was  unnecessarily  severe, 
the  authorities  placing  the  most  hteral  construction  upon  the 
orders  they  received.  He  complained  in  a  dignified  and  manly 
letter  to  Sir  William,  with  a  description  of  his  loathsome  prison. 
By  Washington's  order  his  condition  was  mitigated,  and  he  was 
afterwards  exchanged  for  Ethan  Allen.  In  the  Soutliern  cam- 
paign he  fought  us  with  great  bravery,  and  lived  to  be  a  British 
major-general. 

But  to  resume  our  topography.  Main  Street  was  also  for- 
merly the  old  Boston  and  Harvard  road,  which  left  the  Com- 
mon by  the  cross-way  entering  Walden  Street,  opposite  the  old 
Heywood  tavern,  now  the  property  of  Cyrus  Stow.  Within 
the  space  between  this  cross-way  and  Main  Street  and  Walden 
Street  and  the  Common  was  the  mill-pond  which  j)layed  so 
important  a  part  in  the  transactions  of  the  1 9th  of  April,  but 


384       HISTOKIC    FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

the  existence  of  which  would  not  be  suspected  by  tlie  stranger. 
The  mill-pond  has,  in  fact,  disappeared  along  with  the  dam,  — 
the  little  brook  to  which  it  owed  its  existence  now  finding  its 
way  underground,  and  flowing  onward  unvexed  to  Concord 
River.  We  ask  the  reader  to  circumnavigate  with  us  the  old 
mill-pond. 

Pursuing  our  way  along  the  south  side  of  Walden  Street,  we 
soon  come  to  what  is  called  the  "  Hubbard  Improvement,"  a 
large  tract  through  which  a  broad  avenue  has  been  opened. 
Upon  this  land,  where  the  cellar  and  well  are  still  to  be  seen, 
was  once  a  very  ancient  dwelling,  known  as  the  Hubbard  House. 
It  had  a  long  pitched  roof,  which  stopped  but  little  short  of  the 
ground,  and  from  which  projected  two  chimneys,  both  stanch 
and  strong.  The  old  well-sweep,  now  an  unaccustomed  object  m 
our  larger  towns,  had  done  unwilling  service  for  the  king's  men 
in  '75,  creaking  and  groaning  as  it  drew  the  crystal  draughts 
from  the  cool  depths.  The  house  had  been  visited  by  these 
same  redcoats,  and  its  larder  laid  under  severe  contribution. 

A  little  farther  on  was  the  dwelling  and  corn-house  of  Cap- 
tain Timothy  Wheeler,  the  miller,  whose  successfid  ruse-de-guerre 
saved  a  large  portion  of  the  Colony  flour,  stored  along  with  his 
own.     The  story  has  often  been  told,  but  wiU  bear  repetition. 

When  the  troops  appeared  at  his  door,  he  received  them  in  a 
friendly  manner,  inviting  them  in,  and  telling  them  he  was  glad 
to  see  them.  He  then  asked  them  to  sit  down,  and  eat  some 
bread  and  cheese,  and  drink  some  cider,  which  they  did  not 
hesitate  to  do.  After  satisfying  themselves,  the  soldiers  went 
out  and  were  about  to  break  open  the  corn-house.  Wheeler 
called  to  them  not  to  trouble  themselves  to  split  the  door,  as, 
if  they  would  wait  a  minute,  he  would  fetch  the  keys,  and  open 
himself;  which  he  did.  "  Gentlemen,"  said  the  crafty  Yankee, 
"  I  am  a  miller.  I  improve  those  mills  yonder  by  which  I  get 
my  living,  and  every  gill  of  this  flour "  —  at  the  same  time 
putting  his  hand  on  a  bag  of  flour  that  was  really  his  own  — 
"  I  raised  and  manufactured  on  my  own  farm,  and  it  is  all  my 
own.  This  is  my  store-house.  I  keep  my  flour  here  until  such 
time  as  I  can  make  a  market  for  it."     Upon  this  the  officer  in 


LEXINGTON   TO   CONCORD.  385 

command  said,  "  Well,  I  believe  you  are  a  pretty  honest  old 
chap  ;  you  don't  look  as  if  you  would  hurt  anybody,  and  we 
won't  meddle  with  you."     He  then  ordered  his  men  to  march. 

Heywood's  tavern  was  vigorously  searched  by  the  troops  for 
a  fugitive  who  had  brought  the  alarm  from  Lexington.  He, 
however,  eluded  their  pursuit  by  getting  up  the  chimney,  where 
he  remained  until  the  search  was  given  over.  If  the  reader  is 
surprised  at  finding  so  many  houses  of  entertainment  in  Old 
Concord,  he  must  remember  it  was  the  ancient  seat  of  justice 
for  Middlesex,  and  on  the  high-road  from  the  capital  to  the 
New  Hampshire  Grants. 

The  hill  burying-ground  is  now  thickly  covered  with  a  growth 
of  young  locust-trees,  which  somewhat  obstruct  the  view,  al- 
though they  impart  fragrance  to  the  air  and  shade  to  the 
close-set  graves.  The  oldest  inscription  here  is  dated  in  1677. 
It  is  credible  that  the  settlers  who  first  made  their  homes 
in  this  hiUside  should  have  carried  their  dead  to  its  summit. 
We  observed  here  what  we  considered  to  be  the  rude  sepul- 
chral stones  seen  in  Dorchester  and  other  ancient  graveyards. 

One  inscription  usually  attributed  to  the  pen  of  Daniel 
Bliss,  has  been  much  admired. 

"  God  wills  us  free  ;  —  man  wills  us  slaves. 

I  will  as  God  wills  ;  God's  will  be  done. 

Here  lies  the  body  of 

John  Jack 

A  native  of  Africa  who  died 

March,  1773,  aged  about  sixty  years. 

Though  bom  in  a  land  of  slavery. 

He  was  born  free. 

Though  he  lived  in  a  land  of  liberty. 

He  lived  a  slave  ; 

Till  by  his  honest  though  stolen  labours, 

He  acquired  the  source  of  slavery, 

Which  gave  him  his  freedom  ; 

Though  not  long  before 

Death,  the  grand  tyrant, 

Gave  him  his  final  emancipation,  • 

And  put  him  on  a  footing  with  kings, 

Though  a  slave  to  vice. 

He  practised  those  virtues, 

Without  which  kings  are  but  slaves."  • 

17  Y 


386      HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

THE    RETREAT    FROM    CONCORD. 

"  That  same  man  that  runuith  awaie, 
Male  again  fight  an  other  dale." 

^  Erasmus. 

THE  area  wliicli  we  have  been  thus  circumstantial  in  de- 
scribing was,  on  the  morning  of  the  battle,  a  scene  of 
mingled  activity,  disorder,  and  consternation.'  The  troops  were 
occupied  in  searching  the  houses  of  the  suspected,  and  in  de- 
stroying or  damaging  such  stores  as  they  could  hud.  Reserve 
companies  stood  hi  the  principal  avenue  ready  to  move  on  any 
point,  for  Smith  was  too  good  a  soldier  to  disperse  his  whole 
command.  The  court-house  was  set  on  fire  by  the  soldiers,  but 
they  extinguished  the  flames  at  the  intercession  of  INIrs.  Moul- 
ton,  an  aged  woman  of  over  eighty.  The  garret  contained  a 
quantity  of  powder,  which  would,  in  exploding,  have  desti-oyed 
the  houses  in  the  vicinity.  Colonel  Sbattuck's  was  also  a. 
hiding-place  for  pubHc  property.  The  inhabitants,  though 
"  sulky,"  certainly  behaved  with  address  and  self-possession  in 
the  emergency  in  which  they  found  themselves. 

All  this  time  the  storm  without  was  gathering  head.  The 
troops  had  entered  the  town  at  seven.  It  was  now  nearly  ten 
o'clock.  So  far  the  British  had  little  reason  to  complain  of 
their  success,  but  in  reality  the  provincial  magazines  had  met 
with  trifling  injury. 

A  magnetism  easily  accounted  for  conducted  our  footsteps 
along  the  half-mile  of  well-beaten  road  that  leads  to  the  site  of 
the  battle-ground,  as  it  is  caUed.  A  shady  avenue,  bordered 
with  odoriferous  pines  and  firs,  parts  from  the  road  at  the 
westward  side  and  leads  you  in  a  few  rods  to  the  spot.  Briefly, 
this  was  the  old  road  to  CarHsle,  which  here  spanned  the  river 


THE    RETREAT   FROM    CONCORD.  387 

by  a  simple  wooden  bridge  resting  upon  piles.  The  passage  of 
the  bridge  was  secured  by  Smith's  orders,  who  did  not  omit  to 
possess  himself  of  all  the  avenues  leading  into  the  town.  A 
detachment  under  Captain  Parsons,  of  the  10th,  crossed  the 
bridge  and  proceeded  to  the  house  of  Colonel  Barrett,  a  leader 
among  the  patriots,  and  custodian  of  tlie  Colony  stores.  Cap- 
tain Laurie  of  the  43d  had  the  honor  to  command  the  troops 
left  to  protect  the  bridge. 

The  monument  is  built  of  Carlisle  granite,  the  corner-stone 
having  been  laid  in  1825  in  the  presence  of  sixty  survivors  of 
the  battle,  who  listened  to  an  eloquent  word-painting  of  their 
deeds  from  the  lips  of  Everett.  The  Bunker  Hill  Monument 
Association  aided  greatly  in  advancing  its  erection.  The  pil- 
grim, as  in  duty  bound,  reads  the  inscription  on  the  marble  tab- 
let of  the  eastern  face  :  — 

Here 

On  the  19th  of  April,  1775, 
was  made  tlie  first  forcible  resistance  to 

British  Aggression. 

On  the  opposite  hank  stood  the  American 

militia,  and  on  this  spot  the  first  of  the  enemy  fell 

in  the  War  of  the  Revolution, 

which  gave  Independence  to  these  United  States. 

In  gratitude  to  God,  and  in  the  love  of  Freedom, 

This  monument  was  erected, 

A.  D.  1836. 

What  need  to  amplify  the  history  after  this  simple  conden- 
sation I  We  seated  ourselves  on  a  boidder  invitingly  placed  at 
the  root  of  an  elm  that  droops  gracefully  over  the  placid 
stream,  and  which  stands  close  to  the  old  roadway.  Beyond, 
where  you  might  easily  toss  a  pebble,  were  the  remains  of  the 
farther  abutment  of  the  old  bridge,  for  the  mastery  of  which 
deadly  strife  took  place  between  the  yeomen  of  Middlesex  and 
the  trained  soldiers  from  the  isles.  For  our  own  part  we  have 
never  fallen  upon  so  delightful  a  nook  for  scholar's  revery  or 
lovers'  tryst.  The  beauty,  harmony,  and  peacefulness  of  the 
landscape  drove  the  pictures  of  war,  which  we  came  to  retouch, 
clean  away  from  our  mental  vision.     Not  a  leaf  trembled.     The 


388       HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

river  in  its  almost  imperceptible  flow  glided  on  without  ripple 

or  eddy.     The  trees,  which  had  become  embedded  in  the  mould 

accumulated  above  the  farther  embankment,  cast  their  black 

shadows  across  its  quiet  surface.     A  vagrant  cow  grazed  quietly 

at  the   base  of  the  monument,  where  the  tablet  tells  us  the 

newly  springing  sod  was  fertilized  by  the  life-blood  of  the  first 

slain  foeman. 

"  By  the  rude  bridge  tliat  arched  the  flood, 
Tlieir  flag  to  April's  breeze  unfurled, 
Here  once  the  embattled  farmers  stood 
And  fired  the  shot  heard  roujid  the  world." 

The  ground  upon  which  the  monument  stands  was  given  to 
the  town  by  Dr.  Kipley  in  1834,  for  the  purpose,  and  formed 
originally  a  part  of  the  parsonage  demesne.  We  cannot  choose 
but  challenge  the  anachronism  of  the  inscription  as  well  as  the 
fitness  of  the  site.  The  first  declares  that  ''  here  was  made  the 
first  forcible  resistance  to  British  aggression."  By  substituting 
the  word  "  American  "  for  "  British  "  we  should  adhere  to  his- 
toric truth;  for,  to  the  eternal  honor  of  those  Middlesex  farmers, 
they  were  the  aggressors,  while  "  here  "  stood  the  enemy.  The 
British  fired  the  first  volley,  but  the  Americans  were  moving 
upon  them  with  arms  in  their  hands. 

When  Thomas  Hughes,  Esq.,  better  known  as  "Tom 
Brown,"  was  here,  he  is  said  to  have  exclaimed,  "British 
aggression  !  I  thought  America  was  a  colony  of  Great  Britain, 
and  that  her  soldiers  had  a  right  to  march  where  they  pleased  !" 
This  monument,  therefore,  marks  the  spot  where  the  British 
soldiers  fought  and  fell,  while  the  place  where  the  gallant  yeo- 
men gave  up  their  lives  is  commemorated  by  a  statue.  A 
wealthy  citizen  of  Concord  bequeathed  by  his  will  a  sum  to  be 
applied  to  the  restoration  of  the  old  bridge,  taken  down  in 
1793,  and  for  the  erection  of  a  monument  on  the  farther  shore. 
A  committee  of  intelligent  aud  patriotic  gentlemen  have  ful- 
filled the  conditions  of  Mr.  Hubbard's  legacy,  thus  permanently 
fixing  the  positions  of  the  combatants  when  the  collision  took 
place.  A  spirited  figure  in  bronze,  by  French,  presents  to 
us  the  minute-man  of   1775  hastening  to   the  conflict.      The 


THE   RETREAT   FROM    CONCORD.  389 

artist  has  succeeded  in  investing  his  subject  with  a  good 
deal  of  martial  fire.  Eagerness  and  determination  are  well 
expressed  in  the  attitude  of  the  youthful  soldier.  The 
rebuilding  of  the  bridge  brings  the  warlike  scene  vividly 
before  us. 

A  few  paces  from  the  monument,  beside  a  stone- wall,  are  the 
graves  of  the  two  British  soldiers  who  were  killed  here,  their 
place  of  sepulture  marked  by  two  rough  stones.  One  of  these 
has  so  nearly  disappeared  by  acts  of  vandalism  as  to  be  scarcely 
visible  above  the  sod.  A  large  fragment  of  another  was  placed 
under  the  corner  of  the  soldiers'  monument  in  the  public  square, 
with  what  object  we  are  unable  to  conjecture. 

At  this  place  the  river,  which  before  flowed  easterly,  bends 
a  little  to  the  north.  The  old  road,  after  passing  the  stream, 
ran  parallel  with  it  along  the  wet  ground  for  some  distance  be- 
fore ascending  the  heights  beyond.  The  muster-tield  of  the 
provincials  is  now  owned  by  Mr.  George  Keyes,  who  has  found 
flints  such  as  were  then  used  where  the  Americans  stood  in 
battle-array.  Were  they  dropped  there  by  some  wavering  spirit 
who  feared  to  stain  his  soul  with  bloodshed,  or  were  they  dis- 
carded by  some  of  sterner  cast?  —  a  Hayward,  perhaps,  who 
drew  up  his  gun  at  the  same  moment  the  Briton  levelled  his 
own,  and  gave  and  received  the  death-shot. 

Mr.  Keyes  has  also  ploughed  up  a  number  of  arrow-heads, 
axes,  pestles,  and  other  of  the  rude  stone  implements  of  the 
original  owners  of  the  soil,  who  kept  faith  with  the  white  man 
as  he  had  kept  faith  with  them.  Hardships  fell  to  the  settlers' 
lot,  but  peace  and  concord  endured,  in  token  of  tlie  name 
which  Peter  Bulkley,  their  first  minister,  gave  the  plantation. 

The  Old  Manse  has  received  immortality  through  the  genius 
of  Hawthorne.  It  was  built  in  1765,  the  year  of  the  Stamp 
Act,  for  Rev.  William  Emerson,  the  fighting  parson,  the  same 
who  vehemently  opposed  retreating  from  before  the  British  in 
the  morning  at  Concord  ;  the  same  who  died  a  chaplain  in  the 
army.  The  same  reverend  gentleman  likewise  officiated  as 
chaplain  to  the  Provincial  Congress  wlien  it  sat  in  Concord. 

Standing  back  from  the  road,  a  walk  bordered  by  black  ash- 


390       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

trees,  now  somewhat  in  the  decline  of  life,  leads  to  the  front 
door.  The  house  looks  as  if  it  had  never  received  the  coat  of 
paint,  the  prospect  of  which  so  alarmed  Hawthorne's  sensibili- 
ties. It  is  of  two  stories  with  gambrel  roof  and  a  chimney 
peeping  above  at  either  end.  The  front  faces  the  road,  the 
back  is  towards  the  river ;  one  end  looks  up  the  street  by 
which  you  have  come  from  the  town,  while  the  other  com- 
mands a  view  of  the  old  abandoned  road  to  the  bridge,  —  the 
boundary  of  the  demesne  in  that  direction.  A  considerable 
tract  of  open  land  extends  upon  all  sides. 

The  Manse  is  among  modern  structures  what  a  Gray  Friar 
in  cowl  and  cassock  might  be  in  an  assemblage  of  fashionably 
dressed  individuals.  The  single  dormer  window  in  the  garret 
looks  as  if  it  might  have  made  a  quaint  setting  for  the  head  of 
the  old  clergyman,  with  his  silver  hairs  escaping  from  beneath 
his  nightcap.  If  he  looked  forth  of  a  summer's  twilight  to  scan 
the  heavens,  lireflies  flitted  sparkling  across  the  fields,  as  if 
some  invisible  hand  had  traced  an  evanescent  flash  in  the  air. 
Behind  the  house,  among  the  rushes  of  the  river  meadows,  the 
frogs  sang  jubilee  in  every  key  from  the  deep  diapason  of  the 
patriarchal  croaker  to  the  shrill  piping  of  juvenile  amphibian. 
Discord  unspeakable  followed  the  shores  of  the  Concord  along 
its  windings  even  to  its  confluence  with  the  Assabeth.  The  din 
of  these  night-disturbers  seemed  to  us,  as  we  stood  on  the  riv- 
er's bank,  like  the  gibings  of  many  demons  let  loose  to  murder 
sleep.  And  one  fellow  ■ —  doubt  it  if  you  will,  reader  —  actu- 
ally brayed  with  the  lungs  of  a  donkey. 

"  As  the  worn  war-horse,  at  the  trumpet's  sound, 
Erects  his  mane  and  neighs  and  paws  the  ground." 

Walking  around  to  the  rear  of  the  Manse,  we  see  a  section 
of  the  roof  continued  down  into  a  leanto,  —  a  thing  so  unusual 
that  we  make  a  note  thereon,  the  gambrel  being  the  successor  of 
the  leanto  in  our  architecture.  The  back  entrance  is  completely 
embowered  in  syringas,  whose  beautiful  waxen  flowers  form  a 
striking  contrast  with  the  gray  walls.  Vines  climb  and  cling 
to  the  house  as  if  ineffectually  seeking  an  entrance,  imparting 


THE  RETREAT  FROM  CONCORD.  391 

to  it  a  picturesqueness  answerable  to  and  harmonizing  with 
the  general  eifect  of  the  mansion.  We  give  a  glance  at  the 
garden  where  Hawthorne  grew  his  summer  squashes,  of  which 
he  talks  so  poetically.  What,  Hawthorne  delving  among  pota- 
toes, cabbages,  and  squashes  !  We  can  scarce  bend  our  imagina- 
tion to  meet  such  an  exigency.  It  is  only  a  little  way  down  to 
the  river  where  he  moored  his  boat,  in  which  he  floated  and 
.  dreamed  with  Ellery  Channing. 

We  enter  the  house.  A  hall  divides  it  in  the  middle,  efivinor 
comfortable  apartments  at  either  hand.  Some  mementos  of 
the  old  residents  serve  to  carry  us  back  to  their  day  and  gener- 
ation. A  portrait  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Ripley,  the  successor  of  Mr. 
Emerson,  and  inhabitant  of  the  house  many  years,  hangs  upon 
the  wall.  His  descendants  still  possess  the  Manse.  On  the 
mantel  is  framed  an  invitation  to  General  Washington's  table, 
addressed,  perhaps,  to  Dr.  Emerson.  The  ink  is  faded  and  the 
grammar  might  be  improved  ;  but  the  dinner,  we  doubt  not, 
was  none  the  less  unexceptionable. 

Hawthorne's  study  was  in  an  upper  room,  but  let  none  but 
himself  describe  it. 

"  There  was  in  the  rear  of  the  house  the  most  delightful  little 
nook  of  a  study  that  ever  afforded  its  snug  seclusion  to  the  scholar. 
It  Avas  here  that  Emerson  wrote  '  Nature '  ;  for  he  was  then  an  in- 
habitant of  the  Manse. 

"  There  was  the  sweet  and  lovely  head  of  one  of  Raphael's  I\ladon- 
nas  and  two  pleasant  little  pictures  of  the  Lake  of  Como.  The  only 
other  decorations  were  a  vase  of  flowers,  always  fresh,  and  a  bronze 
one  containing  ferns.  My  books  (few,  and  by  no  means  choice  ;  for 
they  were  chiefly  such  waifs  as  chance  had  thrown  in  my  way)  stood 
in  order  about  the  room,  seldom  to  be  disturbed. 

"The  study  had  three  windows,  set  with  little  old-feshioued  panes 
of  glass,  each  with  a  crack  across  it.  The  two  on  the  western  side 
looked,  or  rather  peeped,  between  the  willow  branches  down  into 
the  orchard,  with  glimpses  of  the  river  through  the  trees.  The  third, 
facing  northward,  commanded  a  broader  view  of  the  river,  at  a  spot 
where  its  hitherto  obscure  waters  gleam  forth  into  the  light  of  his- 
tory. It  was  at  this  window  that  the  clergyman  who  then  dwelt  in 
the  Manse  stood  watchin<ij  the  outbreak  of  a  lon<'  and  deadly  struircr]e 


392       HISTOEIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

between  two  nations  :  he  saw  the  irregular  array  of  his  parishioners 
on  the  farther  side  of  the  river  and  the  glittering  line  of  the  British 
on  the  hither  hank.  He  awaited  in  an  agony  of  suspense  the  rattle 
of  the  musketry.  It  came  ;  and  there  needed  but  a  gentle  wmd  to 
sweep  the  battle  smoke  around  this  quiet  house." 

In  1843  Hawthorne  —  whom  many  here  name  ^az<;-thorne 
as  they  would  say  "  Haiv-hnck  "  to  their  oxen  —  came  to  dwell 
at  the  Manse.  The  place  would  not  have  suited  him  now.  The 
railway  coming  from  Lexington  passes  at  no  great  distance,  and 
the  scream  of  the  steam- whistle  would  have  rudely  interrupted 
his  meditative  fancies.  He  lived  here  the  life  of  a  recluse,  re- 
ceiving the  visits  of  only  a  few  chosen  friends,  such  as  Whit- 
tier,  Lowell,  Emerson,  Channing,  Thoreau,  and  perhaps  a  few 
others.  Here  he  passed  the  hrst  years  of  his  married  life,  and 
here  his  first  child  was  born.  The  townspeople  knew  him  only 
by  sight  as  a  reserved,  absorbed,  and  thoughtful  man. 

The  house  opposite  the  Manse,  now  the  residence  of  Mr.  J. 
S.  Keyes,  is  another  witness  of  the  events  of  that  Ajjril  day. 
The  then  resident  was  named  Jones,  who,  from  being  a  spec- 
tator of  the  scenes  at  the  bridge,  maddened  at  the  sight,  wished 
to  fire  upon  the  redcoats.  It  is  said  that  he  levelled  his  gun 
from  the  window,  but  his  wife,  more  prudent,  prevented  him 
from  pulling  the  trigger.  He  at  last  stationed  himself  at  the 
open  door  of  the  shed  as  the  regulars  passed  by,  when  he  was 
fired  at,  and  with  evil  intent,  as  you  may  see  by  the  bullet- 
hole  near  the  door.  Farther  our  informant  did  not  proceed  ; 
but  in  the  angry  swarm  that  ching  to  and  stung  the  Britons' 
column  all  that  day,  we  doubt  not  Jones  at  last  emptied  the 
contents  of  his  musket. 

In  Mr.  Keyes's  house  we  saw  a  marble  mantel  beautifully 
sculptured  in  relief.  It  is  a  relic  from  the  old  Chamber  of 
Representatives  at  Washington.  On  the  fender  the  feet  of 
Adams,  Clay,  Webster,  Calhoun,  and  the  master  spirits  of  that 
old  hall  have  often  rested.  Before  the  emblematic  fasces  the 
great  Carolinian  brooded  how  to  loose  the*  bands.  The  cau 
cuses,  bickerings,  and  party  tactics  that  fireplace  could  tell  of 
would  make  a  curious  volume.     Ascending  the  hill  behind  the 


THE   EETREAT  FROM   CONCORD.  393 

house  you  have  a  ravishing  landscape,  with  blue  Wachusett 
looming  in  the  distance. 

The  Concord  deserves  to  be  known  in  all  time  as  the  Eubicon 
of  our  history.  The  alfair  at  Lexington  was  but  a  butchery  : 
here  the  Americans  gave  shot  for  shot  and  life  for  life.  Their 
blood  on  fire  with  the  rage  of  battle  and  the  fall  of  their 
friends,  it  is  most  unaccountable  that  the  patriots  allowed  Par- 
sons and  his  command  to  rejDass  the  bridge  unmolested.  These 
last  must  have  stepped  over  the  dead  bodies  of  their  com- 
rades stretched  in  their  path,  gathering  evil  augury  from  the 
sight. 

This  ended  the  advance,  and  here  begins  the  retreat,  which 
we  should  say  is  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  in  the  annals 
of  war,  for  the  pertinacity  of  the  pursuit  by  an  armed  rabble 
and  for  the  complete  demoralization  of  eight  hundred  disci- 
plined soldiers,  led  by  officers  of  experience.  The  old  song 
makes  the  British  grenadier  recite  in  drawling  recitative  :  — 

''  For  fifteen  miles  they  followed  and  pelted  w?,,  we  scarce  had  time  to  draw  a 
trigger  ; 
But  did  you  ever  know  a  retreat  conducted  with  more  vigour  ? 
For  we  did  it  in  two  hours,  which  saved  us  from  perdition  ; 
'T  was  not  in  going  out  but  in  returning,  consisted  our  expedition.'''' 

The  British  detachment  from  the  Xorth  Bridge  buried  one 
of  their  slain  at  the  point  of  the  hill  as  they  turned  into  the 
square,  where  the  house  of  Mr.  Keyes  formerly  stood.  The 
wounded  were  carried  into  Dr.  Minott's.  All  being  at  length 
collected,  the  troops  begin  their  march,  —  the  main  body  by 
the  road,  a  strong  flanking  column  by  the  burying-ground  hill. 
This  hill  terminates  at  the  distance  of  a  mile  from  the  centre  of 
the  town  at  INIeriam's  Corner.  The  flanking  column  had  to 
descend  the  hill  at  this  point,  where  the  road  passes  the  low 
meadow  by  a  causeway  until  it  reaches  the  liill  beyond.  Xear 
the  corner  was  a  little  bridge  thrown  over  a  brook,  which  the 
road  crossedo 

Meriam's  house  and  barn  are  still  seen  in  the  angle  where 

the  Bedford  road  unites  with  that  coming  from   Lexington. 

From  behind   these    buildings  gallant  Jolm   Brooks  with  his 
17*- 


394       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

Reading  company  arrived  in  time  to  j)our  a  volley  among  the 
enemy  as  they  were  passing  the  bridge.  Brooks,  a  captain  in 
Bridge's  regiment,  had  received  his  colonel's  permission  to  push 
on  while  the  regiment  halted  for  refreshment.  Loamnii  Bald- 
win came  up  with  the  Woburn  men,  who  drifted  in  a  cloud 
along  the  British  flank.  The  men  of  Sudbury,  of  Lincoln,  and 
even  Parkers's  from  Lexington,  joined  in  the  race,  for  race  it 
was  beginning  to  be.  The  fields  grew  armed  men,  and  the 
highway  was  fringed  Avith  fire-arms. 

The  six  miles  from  Concord  back  to  Lexington  were  per- 
fectly adapted  to  the  guerillarfighting  of  the  Americans.  They 
abounded  in  defiles  and  places  for  ambush.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  retreating  enemy  was  somewhat  covered  by  the  stone-walls 
as  long  as  the  flank  guards  could  keep  them  clear  of  foemen ; 
but  the  column  was  fired  at  in  front,  in  rear,  and  on  all  sides 
at  once.  Banks,  platoons,  and  the  semblance  of  military  order 
were  soon  lost.  We  need  no  ghost  to  tell  us  what  such  a  retreat 
must  have  been.  The  dust  trampled  into  stifling  clouds,  and  en- 
veloping everything ;  the  burning  thirst  which  men  brave  death 
to  assuage  ;  no  time  to  halt ;  tongues  parched  and  cleaving  to  the 
roof  of  the  mouth  ;  liaggard  faces,  and  red,  bloodshot  eyes  ;  the 
proud  array  and  martial  bearing  all  gone  ;  burnished  arms  and 
uniforms  stained  with  powder  and  dirt ;  one  by  one  a  comrade 
dropping  witli  a  bullet  in  liis  heart,  or  another  falling  out,  ex- 
hausted, to  await  his  fate  in  dogged  despair,  —  this  is  Avhat  it 
meant  to  retreat  fighting  from  Concord  to  Lexington.  The  col- 
umn, hke  some  bleeding  reptile,  scotched  but  not  killed,  dragged 
its  weary  length  along.  Stedman,  the  British  historian,  says 
the  regulars  were  driven  like  sheep.  Harassed,  humiliated,  and 
despairing,  the  men  became  fiends,  divested  of  every  semblance 
of  humanity.  Every  shot  that  whistled  through  the  broken 
battalion  proclaimed  aloud,  "  The  Province  is  dead  !  Long  live 
the  Republic  ! " 

That  same  prowling  ensign,  Bernicre,  tells  his  own  tale  :  — - 

"  At  last,  after  we  got  through  Lexington,  the  officers  got  to  the 
front  and  presented  their  bayonets  and  told  the  men  if  they  advanced 
they  should  die.     Upon  this  they  began  to  form  under  a  very  heavy 


THE   RETREAT   FROM   CONCORD.  395 

tire  ;  but  at  this  instant  the  first  brigade  joined  u.s,  consisting  of  the 
4th,  23d,  and  47th  regiments,  and  two  divisions  of  marines,  under 
the  connnand  of  Brigadier-General  Lord  Percy;  he  brought  two 
field-pieces  with  him,  which  w^ere  immediately  brought  to  bear  upon 
the  rebels,  and  soon  silenced  their  fire.  After  a  little  firing  the 
whole  halted  for  about  half  an  hour  to  rest." 

Percy  opened  his  ranks  and  received  the  fugitives  within 
his  squares.  His  cannon,  a  new  element  for  the  militia  to 
deal  with,  were  unlimbered  and  began  to  play  on  the  hunt- 
ers. Smith's  men  threw  themselves  upon  the  ground,  "  with 
their  tongues  hanging  out  of  their  mouths,  hke  those  of 
dogs  after  a  chase."  Certainly,  my  lord  was  near  being  too 
late. 

This  was  the  first  appearance  of  the  Eoyal  Artillery  in  the 
war.  The  4th  battahon  was  in  Boston  under  command  of 
Colonel  Cleaveland,  who  also  served  on  the  staff  of  the  army  as 
brigadier,  as  did  most  of  the  colonels  of  the  line  regiments.  In 
relation  to  the  report  sent  to  England  that  the  pieces  were  not 
well  provided  with  ammunition,  Colonel  Cleaveland  stated  that 
Lord  Percy  refused  to  take  an  ammunition-wagon,  which  was 
on  the  parade,  fearing  it  might  retard  the  march,  and  did  not 
imagme  there  could  be  occasion  for  more  than  was  in  the  side 
boxes.  A  more  serious  complaint  was  preferred  against  Cleave- 
land at  Bunker  Hill,  where,  according  to  Stedman,  he  sent 
balls  too  large  for  the  guns,  which  rendered  the  artillery  use- 
less until  the  error  could  be  rectified.  Allusion  is  also  made 
to  this  occurrence  in  a  letter  in  the  British  Detail  and  Conduct 
of  the  War,  in  which  it  is  said,  "  The  wretched  blunder  of  the 
over-sized  balls  sprung  from  the  dotage  of  an  officer  of  rank  in 
that  corps,  who  spends  his  whole  time  in  dallying  with  the 
schoolmaster's  daughters."  This  language  is  attributed  to  Sir 
William  Howe,  and  the  Misses  Lovell  are  referred  to.  Colonel 
Cleaveland,  however,  says  he  sent  sixty  rounds  with  each  of 
the  twelve  guns  that  accompanied  the  troops,  but  that  not  more 
than  half  were  fired.  The  name  of  a  brother  of  the  "  school- 
master's daughters  "  has  been  mixed  up  with  this  accident, 
wliich  is  also  referred  to  in  the  song:  — 


396       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

"  Our  conductor  he  got  broke 
For  his  misconduct,  sure,  sir  ; 
The  shot  he  sent  for  twelve-pound  guns 
Were  made  for  twenty -four,  sir." 

The  companies  of  the  Eoyal  Artillery  were  numbered,  and 
wore  in  full  dress  a  laced  hat  with  black  feather,  hair  clubbed 
and  powdered,  white  stock,  white  breeches  and  stockings. 
They  were  armed  with  a  carbine  and  bayonet.  The  Conti- 
nental artillery  Avere  formed  upon  the  same  model. 

The  place  where  Percy  met  the  fugitives  is  about  half  a  mile 
below  Lexington  Common.  One  of  his  cannon  was  placed 
upon  a  little  eminence  near  the  present  site  of  the  Town  Hall. 
This  elevation  has  since  been  levelled.  The  other  gun  was 
posted  on  the  hill  above  the  old  ^lunroe  Tavern,  and  back  of 
the  residence  of  the  late  Deacon  Mulliken.  These  pieces  com- 
manded the  road  for  a  considerable  distance  in  front,  and  one 
of  them  sent  a  shot  through  the  old  meeting-house. 

The  old  inn  of  William  j\Iunroe,  which  was  used  as  a  hos- 
pital for  the  British  wounded  during  their  halt  in  its  vicinity, 
yet  stands,  somewhat  altered  in  appearance,  but  still  the  same 
building  as  in  1775.  It  presents  its  end  to  the  high-road,  and 
faces  you  as  you  pass  up  towards  Lexington  Common.  The 
place  is  still  owned  by  the  Munroe  family,  the  house  being  at 
present  occupied  by  Everett  E.  Smith.  A  short  distance  be- 
yond, the  road  from  Woburn  unites  with  that  in  which  we  are 
journeying,  which  was  the  old  post-road  to  Xo.  Four,  Crown 
Point,  and  the  New  Hampshire  Grants. 

Gage  had  received  the  express,  and  at  nine  o'clock  despatched 
the  Earl  with  something  less  than  a  thousand  men  and  two 
field-pieces.  The  noble  Northumbrian  marched  out  over  Boston 
Neck  with  the  Royal  Welsh,  King's  Own,  47th,  and  his  cannon 
at  his  heels,  to  the  tune  of  Yankee  Doodle.  We  feel  that  al- 
lowance must  be  made  for  Gordon's  statement  that  a  smart  boy 
attracted  his  Lordship's  attention  by  recalling  Chevy  Chase  to 
him,  —  a  circumstance  at  which  his  Lordship  seemed  much 
affected  ;  but  as  we  now  know  no  other  means  of  ascertaining 
the  truth  than  by  a  resort  to  supernatural  agencies,  —  to  which, 


THE  RETREAT  FROM  CONCORD.  397 

however,  it  is  possible  the  noble  Earl's  ethereal  part  might  faQ 
to  respond,  —  we  willingly  refer  the  subject  to  the  reader  as  a 
tough  historical  morsel. 

Yankee  Doodle,  from  whatever  cause,  ceased  to  be  popular 
with  the  English  after  this  day.  On  the  return  from  Lexing- 
ton one  Briton  asked  a  brother  officer  "  how  he  liked  the  tune 
now."  "  Damn  them  !  "  was  the  reply,  "they  made  us  dance 
it  till  we  were  tired."  Yankee  Doodle  was  beat  along  the 
American  line  at  the  surrender  of  Burgoyne. 

At  eight  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  19th  the  people  of 
Boston  first  knew  that  a  collision  between  the  troops  and 
people  had  occurred,  though  an  express  had  arrived  at  the  Gen- 
eral's quarters  at  an  earlier  hour.  The  anxiety  to  know  the 
circumstances  was  extreme,  especially  when  Percy's  brigade  was 
seen  under  arms.  Word  was  immediately  sent  to  AVatertown 
by  a  sure  hand,  and  at  ten  o'clock  Trial  Bissell  mounted  his 
horse,  carrying  the  first  intelligence  of  the  events  thus  far,  — 
namely,  the  slaughter  at  Lexington  and  the  momentarily  ex- 
pected arrival  of  the  first  brigade.  He  took  the  great  southern 
highway.  The  town  committees  on  the  route  made  copies  of 
his  despatch  and  gave  him  fresh  horses.  Worcester,  Hartford, 
]N'ew  Haven,  were  in  turn  reached  and  electrified.  At  the  time 
the  express  rider  left  Watertown  the  idea  of  preventing  the 
junction  of  Smith  with  Percy  was  circulating,  but  no  combina- 
tion to  that  end  could  be  effected. 

At  noon  Gage  gave  out  to  the  inhabitants  of  Boston,  by 
his  aide-de-camp,  that  no  one  had  been  killed.  He  had  not, 
it  is  said,  been  informed  of  the  massacre  on  Lexington  Com- 
mon until  late  in  the  afternoon.  Rumors  then  flew  thickly, 
raising  the  excitement  within  the  town  to  the  highest  pitch. 
Percy  and  Haldimand  were  both  reported  killed.  But  the 
reader  knows  by  what  exaggerated  accounts  the  news  of  battle 
is  usually  heralded. 

Percy's  force  was  doubtless  considered  equal  to  every  emer- 
gency. His  own  and  Colonel  Smith's  commands  comprised 
about  half  Gage's  available  strength,  and  included  the  flower 
of  the  army.    The  relieving  troops  passed  on  unassailed  through 


398       HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

Eoxbury,  Brookline,  Little  Cambridge,  now  Brighton,  to  Charles 
Elver.  At  this  j^oint  they  found  the  "  leaves  "  of  the  bridge 
had  been  removed,  but,  the  rest  of  the  structure  being  unin- 
jured, they  were  soon  found,  replaced,  and  Percy,  after  being 
some  time  delayed,  proceeded.  The  season  was  unusually  early. 
The  barley  was  waving  in  the  fields,  the  pastures  were  green, 
and  the  men  plucked  branches  from  the  cherry-trees,  on  which 
the  buds  Avere  bursting  into  bloom.  It  was  a  warm  and  dry 
day,  and  the  men  suffered  with  the  heat.  An  officer  in  the  de- 
tachment observing,  as  they  marched  along,  that  the  windows 
of  the  houses  were  all  shut,  remarked  to  his  commander,  that, 
in  his  opinion,  they  would  meet  but  little  opposition.  "  So 
much  the  worse,"  Lord  Percy  replied,  "  for  we  shall  be  fired  on 
from  those  very  houses." 

Percy,  having  allowed  breathing  time  to  the  troops,  threw 
out  his  flankers,  faced  about,  and  commenced  his  retrograde 
march.  Captain  Harris,  —  the  same  mentioned  in  a  previous 
chapter  as  Lord  Harris,  —  senior  captain  of  the  5th,  Percy's 
own  regiment,  was  ordered  to  cover  the  retreat.  It  was  now 
about  half  past  two  in  the  afternoon. 

The  Americans  were  joined  in  the  upper  part  of  Menotomy 
by  Dr.  Warren  and  General  Heath,  who  were  the  master-spir- 
its in  conducting  the  attack  from  this  point.  Tlie  Earl  adopted 
a  savage  expedient  for  clearing  his  way.  Parties  fell  off  from 
the  front,  entered  the  houses  by  the  road,  first  plundered,  and 
then  set  them  on  fire.  For  two  miles,  after  descending  into 
the  plain  of  Menotomy,  it  was  a  continued  scene  of  arson,  pil- 
lage, and  slaughter.  The  miHtia  having  assembled  from  the 
more  populous  towns  near  Boston,  their  numbers  were  greatly 
augmented,  and  the  conflict  here  merged  into  the  proportions 
of  a  battle.  Led  by  Warren,  and  maddened  by  the  sight  of 
the  burning  dwellings,  the  fleeing  women  and  children,  and 
the  stark  bodies  of  aged  men  lying  dead  by  their  own  hearth- 
stones, the  patriots  fell  upon  the  British  rear  with  fury.  Har- 
ris was  so  hard  pressed  that  half  his  company,  with  his  lieuten- 
ant, Baker,  were  either  killed  or  wounded.  When  accosted  by 
Percy,  the  captain,  with  his  grenadier-cap  filled  with  water  for 


THE    RETREAT   FROM   CONCORD.  399 

the  relief  of  the  wounded,  offered  some  of  the  precious  beverage 
to  the  Earl,  but  his  Lordship  gratefully  declined  it.  Warren 
had  the  pin  struck  from  the  liair  of  his  earlock  by  a  bullet  at 
this  time.  A  British  officer  had  his  bayonet-scabbard  shot 
from  his  side,  and  Percy  came  near  realizing  his  sombre  appre- 
hensions, a  musket-ball  carrying  away  a  button  from  his  waist- 
coat. The  cannon  ammunition  being  expended,  the  pieces 
became  a  useless  encumbrance.  Smith  is  wounded,  and  Bernard 
of  the  Welsh  has  received  a  hurt.     Chevy  Chase,  indeed  ! 

Eliphalet  Downer's  Duel. 

Dr.  Eliphalet  Downer  left  his  house  in  Punch-Bowl  Village, 
in  Brookline,  early  in  the  morning,  first  directing  his  wife  and 
children  to  a  place  of  safety.     He  then  repaired  to  the  front. 

Coming  in  sight  of  the  main  body  of  the  enemy  advancing 
in  their  retreat,  he  suddenly  encountered  one  of  their  flankers, 
who  had  stopped  to  pillage  a  house.  At  the  same  moment  the 
soldier  descried  Downer,  who  instantly  put  himself  in  the  duel- 
list's posture  of  defence,  presenting  his  side  to  his  foe.  Both 
levelled  their  guns,  and  both  missed.  The  antagonists  then 
closed  in  deadly  struggle.  They  crossed  bayonets,  each  hoping 
by  superior  strength  or  skill  to  obtain  the  advantage.  For  the 
little  time  they  looked  into  each  other's  eyes,  gleaming  with  fero- 
city, and  read  there  the  bitter  resolve  to  destroy,  each  knew  the 
supreme  moment  had  come.  They  lunged,  parried,  locked  bay- 
onets, and  with  every  muscle  strained  to  its  utmost  tension 
strove  for  each  other's  life.  Downer  soon  found  he  was  no 
match  for  his  adversary  in  dexterous  use  of  the  bayonet.  He 
could  only  protract  the  contest,  while  all  the  time  the  main 
body  was  coming  nearer.  Gathering  himself  together  for  a 
desperate  eff'ort,  Downer,  with  incredible  quickness,  reversed 
his  firelock  and  dealt  the  Briton  a  terrific  stroke  with  the  butt 
which  brought  him  to  the  ground.  The  blow  shattered  the 
breech  of  his  gun,  that  had  served  him  so  good  a  turn.  His 
blood  was  up,  he  had  fought  for  life,  his  enemy  was  only  dis- 
abled, and   he  finished   him  with  eight  inches  of  cold  steel ; 


400       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

then,  possessing  himself  of  the  soldier's  arms  as  the  spoil  of 
victory,  he  hastily  retreated  to  a  safer  position.  When  the 
battle  was  over,  he  found  his  forehead  had  been  grazed  by  a 
musket-ball.  General  Heath,  in  noticing  this  combat,  calls  Dr. 
Downer  "  an  active,  enterprising  man  "  ! 

A  little  about  the  bellicose  doctor's  subsequent  career.  He 
immediately  joined  the  army  as  surgeon.  His  regiment  having 
disbanded  at  the  conclusion  of  the  siege  of  Boston,  he  entered 
on  board  the  privateer  sloop  Yankee,  Captain  Johnson,  in  a 
similar  capacity.  The  sloop  mounted  nine  guns,  four  on  a  side. 
In  her  first  cruise  in  July,  1776,  she  fell  in  with  two  ships,  the 
Creighton  and  Zachara,  heavily  laden  with  rum  and  sugar. 
These  she  took.  Our  surgeon,  compelled  to  remain  below,  as- 
sisted in  working  the  odd  gun  in  the  cabin. 

Captain  Johnson  having  sent  a  number  of  his  men  away 
with  the  prizes,  the  prisoners  took  advantage  of  the  lenity  with 
which  they  were  treated,  rose  and  possessed  themselves  of  the 
sloop.  Their  captors,  now  prisoners,  were  taken  to  England, 
where  they  were  treated  with  great  rigor.  Downer  found 
friends,  who  obtained  his  removal  from  prison  into  a  public 
hospital  as  an  assistant,  and  in  the  course  of  a  year  made  his 
escape  to  France.  Xot  finding  an  immediate  opportunity  of 
returning  to  America,  he  entered  on  board  the  Alliance,  then 
fitting  out  at  a  French  port  for  a  cruise  in  the  Channel.  She 
had  the  good  fortune  to  capture  eighteen  prizes. 

The  Doctor  then  took  ship  for  home,  but  on  the  passage  had 
the  ill-luck  to  again  become  a  prisoner.  The  vessel  in  which 
he  was  fought  for  seven  hours  and  a  half,  had  both  her  masts 
shot  away,  and  fired  her  last  round  before  she  surrendered. 
Downer  was  severely  wounded  in  the  action  by  a  gi^ape-shot. 
He,  with  his  fellow-prisoners,  becames  inmates  of  Portsea  Prison, 
near  Portsmouth,  where,  to  use  the  Doctor's  own  language,  they 
were  worse  treated  than  if  they  had  fallen  into  the  power  of 
savages. 

The  prisoners  contrived  to  dig  a  hole  under  ground  for  a  dis- 
tance of  forty  feet,  their  object  being  to  pass  under  the  prison- 
wall  and  into  the  street.     This  was  efiected  with  no  other  tool 


THE   RETREAT   FROM   CONCORD.  401 

than  a  jack-knife,  and  a  sack  to  carry  away  the  earth,  which  was 
deposited  in  an  old  chimney  and  beneath  the  floor.  Only  one 
person  at  a  time  could  work  at  the  excavation,  which  had  to  be 
prosecuted  at  certain  hours  of  the  day,  as  the  noise  at  night 
woidd  have  discovered  them  to  the  sentinel  who  paced  directly 
above  the  workman's  head.  Once  they  were  betrayed,  but,  the 
gallery  being  at  length  completed,  they  cast  lots  for  precedence 
in  the  order  of  escape.  The  Doctor  was  rather  corpulent,  and 
when  his  turn  came  he  stuck  fast  in  the  passage,  completely 
blocking  the  way  until  it  could  be  enlarged  by  the  removal  of 
more  earth.  Owing  to  the  badness  of  the  roads  in  that  chalky 
country,  made  worse  by  rains,  many  of  the  fugitives  were  recap- 
tured and  consigned  to  the  black-hole.     The  Doctor's  friends 

—  for  Americans  had  friends  even  then  in  the  heart  of  England 

—  concealed  him  till  an  opportunity  offered  for  him  to  cross 
over  to  France,  from  whence  he  made  his  way  to  Boston  after 
an  absence  of  three  years.  Dr.  Downer  afterwards  served  as 
surgeon-general  of  the  Penobscot  expedition,  that  most  melan- 
choly of  failures.  He  was  the  grandfather  of  Samuel  Downer 
of  Boston. 

As  you  go  towards  Lexington,  at  your  left  hand,  nearly  op- 
posite the  Baptist  Church,  is  an  old  house  rejuvenated  with 
white  paint  and  bright  with  green  blinds.  Still,  beneath  this 
disguise,  and  in  spite  of  the  modern  additions  grafted  on  the 
parent  structure,  you  may  recognize  it  for  a  veteran  by  its  mon- 
strous chimney  and  simple  outlines.  The  house  is  somewhat 
back  from  the  street,  with  the  end  towards  it.  It  is  the  dwell- 
ing of  Mr.  Eussell  Teel. 

We  found  in  this  house  the  mother  of  Mr.  Teel,  a  sprightly, 
intelligent  lady  of  eighty-one.  She  willingly  related  the  tra- 
gedy that  happened  here  on  the  19th  of  April,  1775. 

After  the  regulars  had  passed  up  to  Lexington,  a  number  of 
minute-men  from  the  eastward,  who  had  collected  here,  thought 
a  good  opportunity  would  occur  to  harass  them  on  their  return. 
To  this  end  they  made  a  small  breastwork  of  casks,  shingles, 
and  such  movables  as  they  could  readily  obtain  near  the  pres- 
ent gate  and  next  the  road.     From  behind  this  cover  the  pa- 


402       HISTORIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF    MIDDLESEX. 

triots  fired  on  Percy's  van,  but  they  had  not  taken  into  account 
the  flank-guards  moving  across  the  fields  parallel  with  the  main 
body.  Hemmed  in  between  these  two  colunms,  the  minute- 
men  sought  shelter  within  the  dwelling. 

"  My  grandfather,  Jason  Eussell,  then  lived  in  this  house," 
continued  Mrs.  Teel.  "  He  had  conducted  his  wife  and  chil- 
dren to  the  high  hill  back  of  the  house,  and  was  returning, 
when  he  was  discovered  and  pursued,  with  the  others,  into  the 
house.  He  was  first  shot  and  then  bayoneted.  The  bloody 
stains  remained  until  quite  recently  upon  the  floor,  where  he 
with  ten  others  perished  while  in  vain  entreating  mercy.  Sev- 
eral Americans  of  this  ill-fated  band,  which  belonged  to  Lynn, 
Danvers,  and  Beverly,  retreated  into  the  cellar,  and  as  they 
were  well  armed  the  British  durst  not  follow  them,  but  dis- 
charged several  volleys  into  the  entrance."  Upon  opening  the 
door  leading  to  the  cellar,  a  dozen  bullet-holes  were  plainly 
visible  in  the  heavy  cross-timbers.  Jason  Eussell  was  an  in- 
valid, and  it  is  thought  imprudently  returned  to  his  dwelling  to 
save  some  articles  of  value. 

Russell's  old  store,  which  is  seen  with  a  modern  addition  not 
far  above  the  railway-station  and  on  the  same  side  of  the  main 
street,  was  entered  by  the  regulars,  who,  after  helping  them- 
selves to  the  hquors  which  they  found  there,  left  all  the  spigots 
turned  so  as  to  waste  what  remained.  Eight  in  front  of  this 
store  a  soldier  was  mortally  wounded,  and  in  his  agony  begged 
his  comrades  to  finish  him. 

Opposite  the  Unitarian  Church,  the  successor  of  the  several 
houses  of  the  First  Parish,  is  the  scene  of  thQ  following  inci- 
dents. Two  wagons  had  been  despatched  from  Boston  in  the 
route  of  Percy's  brigade,  but  at  some  distance  in  his  rear.  One 
contained  ammunition,  the  want  of  Mdiich  he  had  so  miscalcu- 
lated on  setting  out,  the  other  was  loaded  with  provisions.  A 
guard  of  seventeen  men  and  an  officer  accompanied  the  convoy. 
Information  reached  Menotomy  that  these  supplies  were  com- 
ing, and  their  capture  was  at  once  resolved  upon.  The  young 
men  were  all  in  the  main  action  then  going  on  in  Lexington, 
and  this  affair  was  managed  by  some  of  the  elders,  led,  say 


THE   RETREAT   FROM    CONCORD.  403 

the  town  traditions,  by  David  Lamson,  a  half-breed,  though 
Gordon  claims  this  honor  for  Eev.  Dr.  Payson,  of  Chelsea. 

A  low  stone-wall  then  extended  in  front  of  the  present  resi- 
dence of  George  Russell.  The  ground  here  falls  off  sharply 
towards  the  railway,  forming  a  hollow  in  Avhich  was  kept  an 
old  cider-mill.  Behind  this  wall  the  patriots  posted  themselves, 
and  when  the  train  arrived  opposite  their  ambuscade  they  rose 
to  their  feet,  levelled  their  guns,  and  called  out  for  the  officer 
to  surrender.  For  answer  the  drivers  lashed  their  horses,  upon 
which  Lamson's  party  fired  a  volley,  killing  and  wounding  at 
least  four  of  the  escort,  besides  disabling  several  of  the  horses. 
The  officer  soon  found  himself  alone  and  was  made  prisoner. 
Several  of  the  guard  ran  to  the  pond,  into  which  they  threw 
their  guns  ;  then,  continuing  their  flight  for  half  a  mile  along 
its  westerly  shore,  they  came  to  a  little  valley  where  they  en- 
countered an  old  woman  digging  dandelions,  to  whom  they 
gave  themselves  up.  The  wagons  became  the  prize  of  the 
Americans. 

We  frankly  admit  the  doubts  which  assailed  us  at  first  in 
regard  to  this  old  woman  digging  dandelions.  On  a  day  so  un- 
favorable, with  Percy's  guns  rumbling  in  the  distance,  the  mus- 
ketry sputtering  spitefully  at  intervals,  the  spectacle  of  Mother 
Batherick  calmly  digging  early  greens  awoke  in  our  mind  a 
scepticism  such  as  not  unfrequently  attends  the  announcement 
of  natural  phenomena.  The  relation  being  authenticated  by 
persons  of  high  credibility,  we  are  no  longer  surprised  that  a 
squad  of  his  Majesty's  grenadiers  gave  themselves  up  to  such 
an  Amazon.  And  yet  this  woman  lived  and  died  in  poverty. 
Her  figure  was  tall  and  commanding,  her  eye  piercing.  She 
led  her  captives  to  a  neighbor's  house,  and  there  delivered  them 
up  vnth  the  injunction  to  tell  the  story  of  their  capture  to  their 
king.  The  home  of  John  T.  Trowbridge,  the  author,  is  the 
arena  of  Mother  Batherick's  exploit. 

The  old  house  which  stood  opposite  the  railway-station,  on 
the  spot  now  occupied  by  the  residence  of  Mr.  Pierce,  was 
that  of  Deacon  Adams,  a  leading  man  in  the  village.  The 
dwelling  was  riddled  with  bullets,  and  a  big  elm  standing  near 


404      HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

was  spattered  with  lead,  which  the  youth  of  West  Cambridge 
were  fond  of  cutting  out  and  displaying  as  souvenirs.  When 
the  old  house  was  pulled  down,  and  the  tree,  rotten  with  age, 
was  laid  low,  many  of  the  leaden  mementos  were  secured. 

Another  family  of  this  name,  so  hateful  to  the  British,  lived 
higher  up  the  road.    Mrs.  Adams  was  sick  in  bed,  with  a  new- 
born infant  at  her  side.     The  regulars  forced  open  the  doors, 
and,  bursting  into  the  room  in  which  she  was  lying,  one  of  the 
brutes  levelled  his  bayonet  at  her  breast.     The  poor  woman,  in 
an  agony  of  fear,  cried  out,  "  For  the  Lord's  sake  do  not  kill 
me  !  "    "  Damn  you  ! "  ejaculated  the  brute.    Another,  more  hu- 
mane, interposed,  and  said,  "We  will  not  hurt  the  woman  if  she 
wiU  go  out  of  the  house,  but  we  wiU  surely  burn  it."    Strength- 
ened\y  terror,  Mrs.  Adams  arose,  and  throwing  a  blanket  about 
her  person  crawled  to  the  corn-house  with  her  infant  in  her 
arms.     Her  other  little  children,  concealed  by  the  curtains,  re- 
mained unsuspected  under  the  bed  which  she  had  just  left.    The 
soldiers  then  made  a  pile  of  chairs,  tables,  books,  clothing,  etc., 
to  which,  after  helping  themselves  to  as  much  plunder  as  they 
could  carry,   they  set  fire.     The  flames,  however,  were  extm- 
guished  at  the  instant  the  troops  had  passed  by.     A  relative  of 
the  family,  from  whom  the  writer  received  this  narration,  has  a 
small  Bible  which  the  soldiers  had  used  to  kindle  the  fire  at 
Deacon  Adams's.     It  was  much  scorched,  and  although  she  did 
not  say  so  much,  we  could  easily  see  that  the  owner  attributed 
the  preservation  of  the  house  to  the  sacred  volume. 

At  Cooper's  whig  tavern,  now  the  site  of  the  Arlington 
House,  the  king's  troops  committed  similar  atrocities.  Two 
unresisting  old  men,  non-combatants,  were  kUled,  their  skulls 
crushed  and  their  l)rains  scattered  about.  More  than  a  hundred 
shots  were  fired  mto  the  house.  Farther  on  was  the  tory  tav- 
ern, to  which  the  British  officers  were  accustomed  to  resort. 
At  that  time  four  houses  stood  near  together  between  the  Cam- 
bridge line  and  the  railway-station  in  Arlington,  all  owned  by 
famihes  of  the  name  of  Winship.     The  couplet  runs,  — 

''Jed'  and  Jeth',  Jason  and  Jo' 
All  lived  in  Menotomy  Row." 


THE  RETREAT  FROM  CONCORD.  405 

Only  a  single  shot  was  inadvertently  fired  into  the  tavern 
which  stood  near  the  position  of  Mr.  Abbott  Allen's  house. 
Winship  kept  here  in  1772,  and  Lem.  Blanchard  later. 

In  the  same  strain  the  relation  might  be  continued,  but 
enough  has  been  said  to  show  that  the  severest  fighting  and 
most  afflicting  scenes  took  place  in  old  Menotomy.  Mrs.  Win- 
throp,  who  passed  over  the  ground  shortly  after  the  battle, 
says  :  — 

"  But  what  added  greatly  to  the  horrors  of -(the  scene  was  our  pass- 
ing through  the  bloody  field  at  Menotomy,  which  was  strewed  with 
the  mangled  bodies.  We  met  one  affectionate  father  with  a  cart, 
looking  for  his  murdered  son,  and  picking  up  his  neighbors  who  had 
fallen  in  battle,  in  order  for  their  burial." 

It  is  probable  that  Percy  intended  to  return  as  he  came,  but 
by  this  time  he  learned  that  Brighton  Bridge  had  been  effectu- 
ally disabled.  Had  this  not  been  done,  the  villages  of  Old 
Cambridge,  Brookline,  and  Eoxbury  would  have  each  renewed 
the  scenes  of  Menotomy.  To  liaA^e  forced  his  way  for  eight 
miles  farther  might  have  been  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  for 
Percy.  Fortune,  therefore,  conducted  the  head  of  his  column 
back  through  Charlestown  by  the  way  around  Prospect  Hill. 
At  the  old  tavern  in  North  Cambridge  the  officers  may  have 
hastily  swallowed  a  mouthful  of  spirits.  At  six  o'clock  the 
British  vanguard  began  to  file  across  Charlestown  Neck,  and 
ranged  themselves  in  battle  line  on  the  heights  of  Bunker  Hill, 
where  they  remained  until  the  next  day.  They  were  then  re- 
lieved by  the  marines  and  the  third  brigade. 

"  Says  our  General  we  were  forced  to  take  to  our  arms  in  our  own  defence  ; 
{For  armxs  read  legs,  and  it  will  be  both  truth  and  sense. ) 
Lord  Percy  (says  he)  I  must  say  something  of  him  in  civility, 
And  that  is  I  never  can  enough  praise  him  for  his  great  agility." 

We  annex  the  whole  account  of  this  battle  as  it  appeared  in 
Draper's  Boston  Gazette  of  April  20,  1775,  which  is,  we  think, 
worthy  of  being  numbered  among  the  literary  curiosities  of  its 
day:  — 

Battle  of  Lexington. 

"  Last  Tuesday  Night  the  Grenadier  and  Light  Companies  belong- 
ing to  the  several  Kegiments  in  this  Town  were  ferried  in  Long 


406       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

boats  from  the  Bottom  of  the  Common  over  to  Phip's  Farm  in  Cam- 
bridge, from  whence  they  proceeded  on  their  way  to  Concord  where 
they  arrived  early  yesterday.  The  first  Brigade  commanded  by 
Lord  Piercy  with  two  pieces  of  Artillery  set  off  from  here  Yesterday 
Morning  at  Ten  o'clock  as  a  Re-inforcement,  which  with  the  Grena- 
diers and  Light  Companies  made  about  Eighteen  Hundred  men. 
Upon  the  people's  having  notice  of  this  Movement  on  Tuesday  night 
alarm  guns  were  fired  through  the  country  and  Expresses  sent  oif 
to  the  different  Towns  so  that  very  early  yesterday  morning  large 
numbers  were  assembled  from  all  parts  of  the  Country.  A  general 
Battle  ensued  which  from  what  we  can  learn,  was  supported  with 
gieat  Spirit  upon  both  Sides  and  continued  until  the  King's  Troops 
retreated  to  Charlestown,  which  was  after  sunset.  Numbers  are 
killed  and  wounded  on  both  sides.  The  reports  concerning  this 
unhappy  Aftair  and  the  Causes  that  concurred  to  bring  on  an  En- 
gagement are  so  various  that  we  are  not  able  to  collect  anything 
consistent  or  regular  and  cannot  therefore  with  certainty  give  our 
readers  any  further  Account  of  this  shocking  Introduction  to  all 
the  Miseries  of  Civil  War." 

The  American  accounts  appeared  in  the  form  of  hand-bills. 
One,  printed  in  Boston,  is  embellished  with  a  death's-head,  and 
contains  a  list  of  the  American  killed  and  wounded.  Another 
has  at  its  head  twenty  coffins,  bearing  each  the  name  of  one 
of  the  slain.     It  is  entitled, 

"BLOODY   BUTCHERY 

BY  THE 

BRITISH  TROOPS 

OR  THE 
RUNAWAY  FIGHT  OF  THE  REGULARS." 
"  Being  the  PARTICULARS  of  the  VICTORIOUS  BATTLE  fought  at 
and  near  CONCORD,  situated  Twenty  Miles  from  Boston,  in  the  Province  of 
the  Massachusetts  Bay,  between  Two  Thousand  Regular  Troops,  belonging  to 
His  Britanic  Majesty,  and  a  few  Hundred  Provincial  Troops,  belonging  to  the 
Province  of  Massachusetts- Bay,  Avhich  lasted  from  sunrise  until  sunset,  on  the 
19th  of  April,  1775,  when  it  was  decided  greatly  in  favor  of  the  latter.  These 
particidars  are  published  in  this  cheap  form  at  the  request  of  the  friends  of  the 
deceased  WORTHIES  who  died  gloriously  fighting  in  the  Cause  of  Liberty 
and  their  Country  and  it  is  their  sincere  desire  that  every  Householder  in 
the  Country,  who  are  sincere  well-wishers  to  America  may  be  possessed  of  the 
same  either  to  frame  and  glass,  or  otherwise  to  preserve  in  their  houses,  not 
only  as  a  Token  of  Gratitude  to  the  memory  of  the  Deceased  Forty  Persons 


THE  RETREAT  FROM  CONCORD.  407 

but  as  a  perpetual  memorial  of  that  important  event  on  which  perhaps,  may 
depend  the  future  Freedom  and  Greatness  of  the  Commonwealth  of  America. 
To  which  is  annexed  a  Funeral  Elegy  on  those  who  were  slain  in  the  Battle." 

In  the  burying-groiind  at  Arlington  we  found  a  plain  shaft 
of  granite,  nineteen  feet  high,  standing  over  the  remains  of  the 
fallen.  The  monument  is  protected  by  a  neat  iron  fence,  and 
has  a  tablet  with  this  inscription  :  — 

"  Erected  by  the 

Inhabitants  of  West  Cambridge 

A.  D.  1848, 

Over  the  common  grave  of 

Jason  Russell,  Jason  Winship, 

Jabez  Wyman  and  nine  others 

Who  Avere  slain  in  this  Town  by  the 

British  Troops, 

on  their  retreat  from  the  battles  of 

Lexington  and  Concord, 

April  19th  1775. 

Being  among  the  first  to  lay  down 

their  lives  in  the  struggle  for 

American  Independence. " 

A  plain  slate  gravestone  at  the  foot  of  the  obelisk  has  the 
following  :  — 

"  M'  Jason  Russell  Avas 
barbarously  murdered  in  his  own 
House  by  Gage's  bloody  Troops 
on  y«  19th  of  April  1775  ^tat  59 
His  body  is  quietly  resting 
in  this  grave  with  Eleven 
of  our  friends,  who  in  like 
manner,  with  many  others  were 
cruelly  slain  on  that  fatal  day. 
Blessed  are  y«  dead  who  die  in  y* 
Lord. " 

The  memorial  was  erected  by  the  voluntary  contributions  of 
the  citizens  of  West  Cambridge  ;  the  remains  beneath  the  old 
slab  being  disinterred  and  placed  within  the  vault  under  the 
monument,  April  22,  1848.  Nine  of  the  twelve  victims  are 
unknown. 


408       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

At  Acton,  on  the  19th  of  April,  1851,  a  monument  was  dedi- 
cated to  the  gallant  spirits  belonging  to  that  town  who  fell  on 
the  day  of  Lexington  and  Concord.  The  tablet  bears  the  names 
of  Captain  Isaac  Davis  and  of  privates  Abner  Hosmer  and 
James  Hayward,  provincial  minute-men. 

It  was  Davis's  company  which  marched  in  the  van  to  force 
the  passage  of  the  ]S'orth  Bridge.  A  halt  and  parley  had 
occurred  among  the  provincial  soldiers.  ^one,  apparently, 
were  desirous  of  occupying  the  post  of  honor  and  of  facing  the 
British  muzzles.  Davis,  resolute,  and  ashamed  of  this  ignoble 
conduct  before  the  enemy,  exclaimed,  "  I  have  n't  a  man  that  is 
afraid  to  go  "  ;  immediately  suiting  the  action  to  the  word  by 
marshalling  his  men  in  the  front.  He  appeared  depressed,  and 
had  rebuked  the  gayety  of  some  of  his  comrades  who  break- 
fasted with  him  on  that,  to  him,  fateful  morning. 

"  'T  is  the  sunset  of  life  gives  us  mystical  lore, 
Aud  coming  events  cast  their  shadows  before." 

Davis  was  a  tail,  atliletic  man,  famed  for  courage  and  cool- 
ness. He  was  a  gunsmith,  and  an  excellent  marksman.  At  the 
first  volley  he  was  shot  through  the  heart.  He  leaped  convul- 
sively in  the  air,  and  fell,  still  grasping  his  musket,  over  the 
causeway  on  the  low  ground.  Hosmer  was  killed  by  the  same 
lire.  Hayward's  more  tragic  death  we  have  briefly  alluded  to. 
He  was  killed,  during  the  pursuit,  at  the  red  house  on  the  right 
as  you  descend  Fiske's  Hill,  in  Lexington,  going  towards  Bos- 
ton. His  adversary's  ball  perforated  his  powder-horn,  which  is 
still  preserved  ;  but  before  he  fired  his  last  shot  he  had  nearly 
expended  the  forty  buUets  with  which  he  had  set  out. 

The  remains  of  these  brave  men  were  exhumed  from  the 
burial-ground,  where  they  had  lain  for  seventy  odd  years,  and 
placed  in  the  tomb  at  the  base  of  the  monument.  The  graves 
were  then  filled  up,  —  the  gravestones  being  left  standing  to 
tell  the  future  visitor  where  they  had  first  been  interred.  The 
bones  were  found  remarkably  well  preserved.  The  orifice  in 
Hosmer's  skuU  through  which  the  ball  passed  while  he  was  in 
the  act  of  taking  aim  was  still  distinctly  visible.     These  relics 


THE   RETREAT   FROM   CONCORD.  409 

were  carefully  placed  in  a  coffin  of  three  compartments  and  laid 
away  beneath  the  monument,  while  the  booming  of  cannon 
sounded  a  soldier's  requiem. 

Two  mementos  of  the  battles  of  Lexington  and  Concord 
may  be  seen  in  the  Massachusetts  Senate  Chamber ;  one  is  a 
Tower  musket  captured  from  a  soldier  of  the  43d,  the  other 
the  gun  used  by  Captain  John  Parker  on  that  day.  These 
weapons  were  a  legacy  to  the  State  from  Theodore  Parker,  and 
were  received  by  both  branches  of  the  Legislature  assembled  in 
joint  convention.  Governor  Andrew  made  the  address  of  pres- 
entation, during  the  delivery  of  which  he  exhibited  much  emo- 
tion, and  as  he  concluded  he  pressed  the  barrel  of  the  E evo- 
lutionary firearm  to  his  lips  "  with  effusion."  This  occurred  in 
1861,  when  the  opening  events  of  the  Rebellion  presented  a 
certain  analogy  in  the  Governor's  mind  to  the  teachings  of  1776. 
Many  applauded,  while  not  a  few  were  disposed  to  ridicule  his 
patriotic  fervor. 

An  internecine  war  has  raged  ever  since  the  event  of  1775 
between  Lexington  and  Concord,  as  to  which  town  might  claim 
the  greater  honor  of  the  day.  As  if  there  were  not  enough  and 
to  spare  for  both  !  To  Lexington  belongs  the  glory  of  having 
assembled  the  first  force  to.  oppose  the  march  of  the  king's 
troops,  and  of  the  first  bloody  sacrifice  to  liberty.  At  Concord 
the  Americans  first  attacked  the  troops,  and  with  numbers 
which  rendered  such  a  measure  justifiable.  Concord,  too,  was 
the  object  of  the  British  expedition.  The  conflict  raged  during 
the  day  within  the  limits  of  six  towns,  each  of  which  might 
fairly  claim  a  portion  of  the  credit  due  the  whole.  The  his- 
torian will,  however,  treat  the  occurrences  of  the  1 9th  of  April 
as  a  single  event,  leaving  to  local  clironiclers  the  care  of  sepa- 
rating the  golden  sands  which  make  their  peculiar  portion  of 
fame  from  the  fused  ingot.  All  will  agree  that  no  similar 
quantity  of  powder  ever  made  so  great  a  noise  in  the  world  as 
that  burned  on  the  Green  at  Lexington,  and  all  along  the  old 
colonial  highway. 

18 


410       HISTOEIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

A   FRAGMENT    OF    KING    PHILIP's    WAR. 

**  Ah  !  who  could  deem  that  foot  of  Indian  crew 

Was  near  ?  —  yet  there,  with  lust  of  murderous  deeds, 
Gleamed  like  a  basilisk  from  woods  in  view, 
The  ambushed  foeman's  eye." 

AN  hour's  ride  from  the  city  by  the  railway  brings  you  to 
the  village  of  South  Sudbury.  After  you  have  ahghted 
at  the  Uttle  station,  and  the  carriages  have  ceased  to  rumble  in 
the  distance,  a  stillness,  almost  painful  by  its  contrast  with  the 
roar  and  rush  of  your  fiery  steed,  settles  upon  hill  and  vale. 
If  it  be  a  warm  summer's  day,  not  a  sound  breaks  in  upon  the 
silence.  Your  own  or  another's  voice  startles  you.  It  is  likely 
that  you  will  not  even  hear  the  lowing  of  cattle,  for  they  have 
sought  some  friendly  shade  by  the  margin  of  the  brook.  A 
little  ripple  of  light  follows  the  lightest  zephyr  that  plays  across 
the  fields  of  bearded  grain.  The  pastures  are  crisp  and  dry 
beneath  your  feet ;  the  air  you  breathe  is  laden  with  the  heated 
vapors  you  see  playing  to  and  fro  in  waA^es  before  you.  Even 
chanticleer  is  mute,  and  the  accustomed  sounds  from  the  barn- 
yard are  seldom  heard.  The  scene  is  one  of  nature's  tranquil 
pictures. 

"  Peace  to  the  husbandman  and  a'  his  tribe." 

The  callage  of  South  Sudbury  lies  embosomed  in  a  little 
valley  formed  by  considerable  hills.  A  few  houses  mount  the 
slope  of  the  easternmost  eminence,  which  is  called  Green  Hill, 
while  to  the  southwest  of  the  meadows  through  which  trickles 
the  Mill  or  Hop  Brook,  rises  what  we  call  a  mountain  in  Mas- 
sachusetts, —  a  well-wooded  height  lying  partly  in  Framing- 
ham  and  still  holding  to  its  Indian  name  of  Nobscot.  The 
brook  once  turned  the  water-wheel  of  an  ancient  saw  and  gi'ist 


A   FRAGMENT   OF   KING   PHILIP'S    WAR.  411 

mill  at  the  foot  of  Green  Hill,  where  it  now  performs  the  same 
office  for  a  paper-mill.  Following  the  railway  straight  on  to 
the  north,  a  mile  away  the  steeple  of  Sudbury  meeting-house 
rises  exactly  at  the  point  where  the  converging  iron  bands  seem 
to  meet  in  the  distance.  South  Framingham,  Wayland,  Con- 
cord, and  Marlborough  are  about  equally  distant. 

As  for  the  village  it  is,  like  other  country  towns,  fast  asleep, 
except  when  roused  by  the  scream  of  the  steam-wliistle,  or 
brought  into  spasmodic  activity  by  the  recurrence  of  some 
national  or  State  holiday.  Pass  through  it  at  any  other  time, 
and  you  see  indeed  shops  open  and  people  walking  about  with 
their  eyes  wide  open  ;  but  the  former  are  cold  and  still, 
wliile  the  latter  appear  to  be  somnambulists.  Why  they  are 
out  of  doors  they  could  not  tell  any  more  than  where  they 
are  going,  —  they  are  impelled  to  movement  without  object  or 
seeming  necessity.  The  shops  are  empty.  The  shopman  either 
stands  in  the  doorway  with  his  hands  thrust  into  the  lowest 
depths  of  his  breeches-pockets,  or  is  seen  squatted  on  the 
threshold  of  his  bazaar  with  a  jack-knife  in  one  hand  and  a 
pine 'chip,  which  he  is  listlessly  whittling,  in  the  other.  On 
one  side  the  door  are  arranged  a  group  of  agricultural  tools,  a 
board  on  which  is  chalked  the  market  value  of  white  beans,  a 
keg  of  nails,  and  a  few  articles  of  wooden-ware.  On  the  other 
side,  suspended  like  a  malefactor  from  a  gibbet,  is  a  checked 
woollen  shirt  above  a  pair  of  trousers  having  a  pattern  not  un- 
like those  worn  in  our  public  prisons.  In  the  windows  are  all 
manner  of  things,  which  seem  as  if  they  had  been  stranded 
there  by  the  flood ;  for  so  old-fashioned  are  they  that  they  will 
carry  you  back  any  distance  your  imagination  is  capable  of. 
The  shopkeeper  is  not  looking  out  for  customers,  —  that  were 
indeed  a  hopeless  employment,  —  but  is  merely  killing  time, 
Avliile  he  of  the  hour-glass  and  scythe  is  slowly  but  surely  re- 
taliating in  kind. 

When  this  was  the  old  post-route  to  Hartford  and  New 
York,  in  that  ever-famous  year  1775,  and  mine  host  Baker 
kept  the  public  inn  in  Sudbury,  the  arrival  of  coach,  post- 
chaise,   or  army   express  was    the    great  event.      Tf  coach    or 


412     HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

post-rider  happened  to  change  horses,  the  scene  assembled  all 
the  loose,  idle,  gaping,  surplus  population  of  the  town,  who 
came  to  stare  at  the  horses,  the  coach,  and  the  passengers. 
With  what  interest  did  they  not  watch  the  process  of  un- 
hitching one  set  of  horses  and  the  putting  in  of  another. 
The  passengers  who  dismount  for  a  visit  to  the  bar  of  the  tav- 
ern, or  a  taste  of  mine  host's  viands,  must  run  the  gauntlet  of 
eyes  determined  not  to  lose  their  slightest  movement.  The 
very  horses,  raising  their  dripping  muzzles  from  the  drinking- 
trough,  seem  to  wonder  what  the  people  can  be  staring  at.  Or 
imagine  the  same  group  assembled  round  the  postman.  ]!^ot 
one  in  ten  ever  received  a  letter  in  his  lifetime,  but  it  is  indis- 
pensable that  the  same  question  should  be  asked,  with  the 
same  unvarying  answer.  The  coach  gone,  the  rumble  of  wheels 
dies  away,  and  so  quiet  is  the  place  become  that  you  can  hear 
the  ring  of  the  village  smith's  anvil,  or  the  squeak  of  some  old 
well-sweep,  from  one  end  of  the  town  to  the  other. 

It  is  but  lately  that  Sudbury  has  been  discovered  by  a  rail- 
way. How  much  of  a  luxury  it  is  considered  by  the  inhabi- 
tants along  the  line  may  be  gathered  from  the  circumstance 
that  during  our  journey  thither  we  were,  with  only  another 
wayfarer,  the  sole  occupants  of  a  train  of  four  carriages. 

The  years  1675-76  were  fateful  ones  for  New  England. 
The  old  chronicler,  Hubbard,  says,  "  It  was  ebbing  water  with 
New  England  at  this  time,  and  awhile  after ;  but  God  shall 
turn  the  stream  before  it  be  long,  and  bring  down  their  ene- 
mies to  lick  the  dust  before  them."  Philip,  the  great  chieftain 
of  the  Wampanoags,  had  begun  hostilities  with  the  whites,  and 
for  a  time  it  looked  as  if  he  might  destroy  all  their  frontier  set- 
tlements. Had  he  been  able  to  effect  his  object  of  bringing  aU 
the  savage  nations  into  alliance,  the  war  might  have  ended  with 
the  extermination  of  the  pale-faces. 

Indians  were  everywhere.  There  had  been  no  formal  decla- 
ration of  war,  —  nothing  of  that  poetic  exchange  of  rattlesnake- 
skin  filled  with  arrows  foj?  the  white  man's  powder  and  lead. 
There  was  nothing  chivaLric  about  it.  The  war  was  planned  in 
secret  and  in  treachery ;  the  on^t  was  sudden  and  wellnigh 


A   FRAGMENT   OF    KING    PIIILIP'S    WAR.  413 

irresistible.  The  first  intimation  the  EngUsh  had  that  Phihp 
had  dug  np  the  hatchet  was  in  the  fatal  shot  from  an  ambus- 
cade, or  the  war-whoop  sounded  in  the  midst  of  the  hamlets. 
At  this  time  the  Colony  could  muster  about  four  thousand  foot 
and  four  hundred  horse,  without  reckoning  the  aged  or  inhrm. 

On  their  part,  the  whites  were  not  more  blameless  than  they 
now  are,  nearly  two  hundred  years  since,  when  the  work  of 
extinguishing  the  remnant  of  the  red  race  is  approaching  the 
end.  Two  centuries  ago  the  Indians  were  powerful  enough  on 
the  Atlantic  shore  to  render  it  doubtful  for  a  time  whether  the 
English  might  retain  a  precarious  foothold  in  the  seaports.  To- 
day they  are  hunted  down  among  the  rocky  fastnesses  of  the 
Pacific. 

In  1675  there  were,  as  now,  Indian  traders  without  souls, 
and  Englishmen  who  thought  as  little  of  shooting  a  savage  as 
of  outraging  a  squaw.  There  was  also  the  fire-water,  under  the 
influence  of  which  the  savage  parted  wdth  his  birthright,  or 
made  his  mark  at  the  bottom  of  a  so-caUed  treaty,  of  which  he 
knew  not  the  meaning.  The  English  fought  then  for  self-pres- 
ervation, which  we  know  is  nature's  first  law,  so  that  we  can 
well  pardon  them  for  dealing  blow  for  blow,  —  and  even  their 
reverend  teachers  for  preaching  a  crusade  against  the  savages, 
as  Dr.  Mather  and  the  clergy  generally  did.  The  Indians  — 
did  they  not  suspect  it,  and  did  not  their  wise  men  foretell  it  ? 
—  were  also  fighting  for  self-preservation.  The  law  was  as  in- 
exorable to  them  as  to  the  pale-face.  Philip  was  living  in  a 
sort  of  vassalage  which  his  proud  spirit  rebelled  against.  Did 
an  Englishman  complain  of  an  injury  from  an  Indian,  his 
sachem  was  instantly  cited  to  appear  before  the  stranger's  coun- 
cil. Did  an  Indian  complain  of  the  wrong  of  a  white  man, 
justice  was  oftentimes  both  blind  and  deaf.  The  Indians 
warred  after  a  cruel  fashion,  certainly.  They  tortured  the 
living  and  mutilated  the  dead.  But  then,  after  all,  they  were 
but  savages,  and  it  was  the  manner  in  which  they  had  been  ac- 
customed to  wage  war  among  themselves  ;  until  we  had  civilized 
them  we  had  little  right  to  murmur  if  they  did  not  adopt  our 
style  of  warfare.     But  what  did  the  English  do  1     With  the 


414       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 


Holy  Scriptures  in  one  hand,  they  ordered  the  beheading  and 
scalping  of  their  red  enemies.  The  Quakers  who  refused  to  en- 
list were  compelled  to  run  the  gauntlet  in  Boston  streets,  and 
attempts  were  made  to  break  open  the  jails  and  put  to  death 
the  Indian  prisoners.  There  was  a  strong  dash  of  heroism  in 
Philip  of  Pokanoket,  and  we  cannot  blame  him  for  making- 
one  grand  effort  for  freedom. 

When  the  news  came  to  the  Massachusetts  capital  that  the 
frontier  towns  were  being  harried,  drums  beat  to  arms,  and 
stout  John  Leverett  summoned  his  council  together.  Hench- 
man, Hutchinson,  Paige,  Willard,  and  the  other  captains  put 
on  their  buff  coats  and  belted  their  heavy  broadswords  or  ra- 
piers about  them.  The  bands  were  mustered.  In  each  com- 
pany was  an  ensign,  who  bore  aloft  a  color  of  red   sarsenet,  a 

yard  square,  with  the 
number  of  the  company 
in  white  thereon.  An- 
other had  a  white  blaze 
in  the  centre.  Volun- 
teers were  demanded,  and 
even  the  profane  seafar- 
ing men — "privateers," 
as  they  were  called  — 
were  enrolled.  A  guard 
of  musketeers  was  set  at 
the  entrance  of  the  town. 
A  busy  man  was  John 
Fayerweather,  the  com- 
missary, in  providing  for 
the  levies.  With  drums 
beating,  trumpets  bray- 
ing, and  standards  dis- 
played, the  troops  de- 
filed through  the  town- 
gates.  A  few  encoun- 
ters, and  this  bravery  of  regular  Avar  was  laid  aside.  This  was 
almost  two  hundred  years  ago,  and  yet  we  have  lately  seen 


KING    PHILIP,    FROM    AN    OLD    PRINT. 


A   FRAGMENT   OF   KING   PHlLlP'lS    WAR.  415 

our  brave  men  led  into  an  Indian  ambush  as  unwarily  as  they 
were  in  the  year  1G75. 

Some  of  the  evils  which  a  solemn  session  of  the  General 
Court,  convened  at  Boston  at  this  time,  held  to  lie  at  the  foun- 
dation of  their  misfortunes,  were  the  proud  excesses  in  apparel 
and  hair  of  which  many  —  "  yea,  and  of  the  poorer  sorte  as  well 
as  others  "  —  were  guilty.  The  Quakers  came  in  for  a  liberal 
share  of  invective.  Excess  in  drinking,  and  the  toleration  of 
so  many  taverns,  especially  in  Boston,  which  the  townspeople 
were  too  much  inclined  to  frequent,  were  glaring  offences.  It 
was  urged  that  profane  swearing  had  frequently  been  heard, 
and  steps  were  taken  to  suppress  and  punish  it.  The  fourth 
and  fifth  commandments  were  ordered  to  be  better  observed 
than  formerly,  and  it  was  decreed  that  there  should  be  no 
more  such  oppression  by  merchants  or  laborers  as  had  been. 
Truly,  Philip  was  working  a  social  revolution  among  his 
enemies  of  Massachusetts  Bay ! 

From  these  measures  we  may  see  that  our  forefathers  were 
not  so  well  satisfied  with  themselves  as  to  feel  sure  of  providen- 
tial aid  in  their  work  of  killing  savages  ;  but  it  is  set  down  in 
the  chronicles  that  on  the  very  day  when  these  new  civil  regu- 
lations were  established,  the  English  forces  achieved  a  victory 
at  Hatfield. 

During  the  summer  and  autumn  of  1675  the  Indians  had 
almost  uninterrupted  success.  They  had  ravaged  the  country 
from  the  Connecticut  to  the  shores  of  Boston  Bay,  and  a  stray 
warrior  had  appeared  within  a  few  miles  of  Boston  Town -House. 
In  November  the  commissioners  of  Massachusetts,  Plymouth, 
and  Connecticut  met  at  Boston,  and  agreed  to  raise  an  army  of 
a  thousand  men,  of  wliich  the  Bay  Colony  furnished  more  than 
half.  At  the  head  of  this  force  Winslow  assaulted  the  strong- 
hold of  the  Narragansetts  in  December,  inflicting  a  terrible  de- 
feat upon  that  nation,  and  entirely  breaking  its  power. 

The  Indians  resumed  hostilities  in  the  early  spring  of  1676. 
The  English  had  become  more  circumspect ;  still  their  losses 
were  heavy,  and  the  path  of  Pliilip's  warriors  could  be  marked 
by  desolation  and  ruin.     The  whites,  too,  learned  at  length  to 


41.6        HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF   MIDDLESEX. 

make  use  of  the  Christian  or  Praying  Indians,  to  act  as  runners 
and  scouts,  —  a  measure  which  we  have  lately  seen  imitated 
with  advantage  in  the  employment  of  the  Warm  Springs  In- 
dians against  the  Modocs. 

One  Sabbath,  late  in  March,  the  Indians  attacked  Marl- 
borough, while  the  inhabitants  were  at  divine  worship  in  their 
meeting-house.  The  people  sought  the  shelter  of  their  garrison- 
houses,  which  were  found  in  every  settlement,  leaving  the 
enemy  to  burn  the  greater  part  of  the  town.  Lancaster  had 
previously  suffered,  and  the  tale  of  the  captivity  and  redemp- 
tion of  Mrs.  Rowlandson  furnishes  a  graphic  chapter  of  these 
terrible  years. 

In  April  Philip  had  assembled  about  four  hundred  of  his 
followers  in  the  neighborhood  of  Marlborough,  and  after  burn- 
ing the  few  deserted  houses  they  fell  with  fury  upon  Sudbury. 
A  small  party  from  Concord,  coming  to  the  assistance  of  their 
neighbors,  were  ambushed  and  slain.  The  news  of  the  descent 
on  Marlborough  having  reached  Boston,  Captain  Samuel  Wads- 
worth  was  despatched  with  a  company  of  soldiers  to  its  relief. 
Reaching  Marlborough  after  a  weary  march  of  twenty-live  miles, 
Wadsworth  learned  that  his  enemy  had  gone  in  the  direction 
of  Sudbury,  and,  after  giving  his  men  some  rest  and  refresh- 
ment, and  being  joined  by  Captain  Brocklebank,  who  com- 
manded the  garrison  at  Marlborough,  he  returned  on  his  own 
footsteps  in  pursuit,  following,  tradition  says,  the  old  trail, 
afterwards  the  Lancaster  road,  now  closed. 

When  within  what  is  now  South  Sudbury,  Wadsworth  saw 
about  a  hundred  of  the  enemy's  war-party,  with  whom,  believ- 
ing them  the  main  body,  he  endeavored  to  close.  The  Indians 
retired  slowly  through  the  woods,  until  Wadsworth's  men  were 
wholly  encompassed  by  enemies  lying  in  concealment,  when 
the  terrific  war-whoop  rang  through  the  forest,  and  every  tree 
around  the  devoted  band  blazed  with  a  death-shot.  The  Eng- 
lish, perceiving  theirs  to  be  a  desperate  case,  fought  with  obsti- 
nate bravery,  but  were  at  length  forced  to  the  top  of  Green 
Hill,  the  circle  of  enemies  aU  the  while  drawing  closer  around 
them.     On  this  hill  they  defended  themselves  vaKantly  until 


.      A   FRAGMENT   OF   KING   PHILIP'S   WAR.  417 

nightfall,  when  some  of  the  party,  attempting  to  escape,  were 
followed  by  others,  until  a  precipitate  retreat  was  the  result. 
The  Indians  pursued,  slaying  all  but  thirteen  or  fourteen,  who 
sought  safety  at  Noyes's  mill, — the  same  referred  to  in  another 
place.  This  mill  was  fortihed  after  the  usual  fashion  of  the 
garrisons,  but  had  been  abandoned  by  the  Sudbury  people. 
BeHeving  it  to  be  still  occupied  by  them,  the  Indians  did  not 
venture  to  the  assault,  but  withdrew  to  complete  and  celebrate 
their  victory.  The  sur^dvors  at  the  mill  were  afterwards  re- 
lieved by  Captain  Hugh  Mason's  company  from  Watertown, 
who  approached  the  battle-ground  by  way  of  Mount  Xobscot, 
where  they  left  the  carts  containing  their  baggage  and  pro- 
visions. The  Indians  were  still  in  the  vicinity,  but  Mason  did 
not  feel  sufficiently  strong  to  attack  them. 

The  English  lost  in  this  battle  their  captain,  Wadsworth ; 
Sharp,  their  lieutenant ;  and  twenty-six  others,  besides  Captain 
Brocklebank.  Five  or  six  who  were  captured  were  put  to  the 
torture  on  the  night  of  the  fight.  The  remains  of  the  faUen 
Englishmen  were  gathered  and  interred  near  the  spot  where 
they  fell.  Over  their  common  grave  a  heap  of  loose  stones  was 
piled.  This  humble  monument  was  in  an  open  field,  about 
thirty  rods  east  of  the  road,  and  near  a  growth  of  pines  and 
oaks.     The  soil  on  the  hill-top  is  light  and  sandy. 

With  this  victory  Philip's  onset  culminated,  and  he  began  to 
drift  down  the  tide  apace.  The  fierce  Maquas  and  Senecas 
attacked  the  undefended  collages  of  his  allies,  while  sickness 
and  disease  spread  among  his  people.  Disasters  overtook  him, 
and  he  became  a  hunted  fugitive.  On  the  12th  of  August, 
1676,  he  fell  by  the  hand  of  one  of  his  own  race,  and  was  be- 
headed and  quartered  by  the  Plymouth  authorities,  —  his  head 
being  set  on  a  gibbet,  where  it  was  to  be  seen  for  twenty  years. 

A  plain  slab  of  blue  slate  was  raised  over  the  remains  of 
Captain  Wadsworth  and  his  ill-fated  companions  by  his  son, 
President  Wadsworth,  of  Harvard  College.  It  bears  the  follow- 
ing inscription  :  — 

Capt.  Samuel  Wadsworth  of  Milton,  his  Lieut.  Sharp  of  Brook- 
lin,   Capt.  Broclebaiik  of  Rowley,  with  about  26  other  souldiers, 

18*  ^  AA 


418        HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

fighting  for  the  defence  of  their  country,  were  slain  by  y^  Indian 
enemy,  April  18th,  1676,  lye  buried  in  this  place." 

In  1852  the  relics  were  exhumed  and  removed  a  little  dis- 
tance to  the  site  of  the  present  monument,  —  a  plain  granite 
shaft,  which  was  dedicated  by  an  address  from  Hon.  George  S. 
Boutwell,  present  Senator  for  Massachusetts.  The  old  grave- 
stone is  placed  at  the  base  of  the  monument,  the  tablet  of 
which  recites  that  it  was  erected  by  the  Commonwealth  and  the 
town  of  Sudbury,  in  grateful  remembrance  of  the  services  and 
sufferings  of  the  founders  of  the  State.  The  same  date  is  ex- 
hibited on  the  monument  as  is  borne  on  the  old  slab,  namely, 
April  18,  1676  ;  but  as  this  is  a  subject  of  contradiction  among 
the  historians  of  the  time,  the  committee  concluded  to  adhere 
to  the  date  adopted  by  President  Wads  worth. 

A  fuller  research  has  turned  the  weight  of  testimony  against 
the  earlier  date,  and  in  favor  of  April  21  as  the  time  of  the 
fight.  In  the  midst  of  discrepancies  of  this  character  the  nar- 
rator has  only  to  accept  what  is  supported  by  the  greatest  num- 
ber of  authorities,  and  these  certainly  are  on  the  side  of  April 
21,  1676. 

In  the  discussion  which  has  ensued  as  to  the  date  which 
should  have  been  placed  on  the  Wadsworth  monument,  it  was 
assumed  by  the  distinguished  advocate  of  the  earlier  date  that 
communication  with  Boston  was  cut  ofl'  by  Philip  between  the 
1 7th  and  20th  of  April.  Doubts  have  also  been  expressed  as  to 
whether  intelligence  of  the  fight  could  have  reached  the  vicinity 
of  Boston  on  the  same  day.  The  authorities  had  not  neglected 
so  vital  a  matter  as  the  arrangement  of  signals  between  the  gar- 
rison attacked  and  the  capital.  The  firing  was,  of  course,  dis- 
tinctly heard  in  the  neighboring  towns,  and  was  communicated 
by  alarm-guns  from  garrison  to  garrison  until  it  reached  Boston. 
In  Hutchinson's  History  an  example  is  given  of  the  rapidity 
with  which  communication  could  be  transmitted  :  — 

"  Sept  23*  (1676)  an  alarm  was  made  in  the  town  of  Boston  about 
ten  in  the  rnqruiug,  1200  men  were  in  arms  before  11  and  all  dis- 
missed before  12.     Qne  that  was  upon  guard  at  Mendou,  30  miles 


A  FRAGMENT  OF   KING  PIIILIP'S   WAR.  419 

off,  got  drunk  and  fired  his  gun,  the  noise  of  which  alarmed  the  next 
neighbors  and  so  spread  to  Boston." 

Considering  what  were  then  the  resources  of  the  Colony,  Sud- 
bury fight  was  as  important  in  its  day  as  a  pitched  battle  with 
thousands  of  combatants  would  be  in  our  own  time.  It  occa- 
sioned great  depression.  The  Indians  must  have  lost  heavily 
to  have  conducted  their  subsequent  operations  so  feebly. 

Though  the  whites  usually  ventured  to  attack  them  with 
greatly  inferior  numbers,  they  were  far  from  being  contemptible 
foes.  The  Englishman's  bufi"  coat  would  sometimes  turn  a  bul- 
let, but  the  Indian's  breast  was  bared  to  his  enemy.  His 
primitive  weapons,  however,  the  bow  and  arrow,  had  been  ex- 
changed for  guns  and  hatchets,  which  he  soon  learned  to  use 
but  too  well.  The  Dutch  on  one  side,  or  the  French  on  another, 
kept  him  supplied  with  powder  and  baU.  He  fought  for  his 
hunting-grounds,  now  parcelled  out  among  strangers.  He  fell 
to  be  received  into  the  elysian  fields  of  the  great  Manitou. 

We  cannot  forbear  our  tribute  of  pity  and  of  admiration  for 
Philip.  What  though  he  struck  the  war-post  and  chanted  the 
death-song  to  gather  his  dusky  warriors  for  one  mighty  effort  to 
exterminate  our  ancestors,  his  cause  was  the  same  that  has  ever 
received  the  world's  applause.  Liberty  was  as  sweet  to  Philip 
as  to  a  Tell  or  a  Toussaint,  but  he  failed  to  achieve  it,  and  the 
shades  of  oblivion  have  gathered  around  his  name.  There  was 
a  simple  yet  kingly  dignity  in  Philip's  communications  to  the 
chief  men  among  the  colonists.  His  neck  could  not  bear  the 
yoke ;  he  must  walk  free  beneath  the  sun. 

Though  the  great  chief's  policy  would  not  have  left  a  single 
foe  alive,  it  is  known  that  he  sent  warning  to  some  among  the 
whites  who  had  bound  themselves  to  him  by  uprightness  and 
honorable  dealing.  In  that  part  of  Taunton  now  known  as 
Raynham  was  one  of  Philip's  summer  haunts  for  fishing  and 
hunting.  The  Leonards  had  there  erected  the  first  forge  in  New 
England,  if  not  in  North  America,  and  had  there  lived  in  amity 
with  the  Indian  prince.  They  fashioned  him  spear  and  arrow- 
heads with  which  to  strike  the  red-deer  or  the  leaping  salmon, 
and  he  repaid  them  with  game,  rich  skins,  and  wampum.  To 
them  he  gave  a  hint  to  look  to  their  safety. 


420        HISTOKIC    FIELDS    AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

It  seems  passing  strange  to  be  standing  beside  a  monu- 
ment erected  to  commemorate  a  victory  over  our  sires  by  a 
race  wellnigh  blotted  out  of  existence.  Every  circumstance 
of  our  surroundings,  every  object  upon  which  the  eye  dwells 
in  the  landscape,  gives  the  lie  to  such  an  event.  Where  the 
warriors  lay  in  ambush,  green  and  well-tilled  fields  extend 
themselves ;  where  the  old  mill  creaked,  steam  issues  from  its 
successor ;  instead  of  the  Indian  trail  the  railway  presents  its 
iron  pathway ;  the  rude  yet  massive  garrison-house  is  replaced 
by  yonder  costly  villa ;  and  the  simple  village  meeting,  in 
which  the  settlers  fearfully  pursued  their  devotions  with  arms 
in  their  hands,  is  renewed  where  we  see  the  distant  and  lofty 
spire.  The  virgin  forests  have  disappeared  as  completely  as 
have  the  red-men  who  threaded  the  greenwood.  All  nature  is 
at  work  for  man  where  once  all  was  repose.  Only  the  hills  and 
the  stream  remain  as  pressed  by  the  moccason  or  cleft  by  the 
canoe. 

In  Pilgrim  Hall,  at  Plymouth,  the  stranger  is  shown  some 
memorials  of  Philip.  The  barrel  of  the  gun  through  which  the 
bullet  passed  to  his  heart,  and  the  curiously  woven  helmet 
which  he  is  said  to  have  worn,  are  there  displayed  among  the 
bones  and  implements  of  his  race.  As  yet  we  lack,  here  in 
New  England,  a  museum  devoted  to  Indian  antiquities,  in 
which  we  might  see  the  dress,  arms,  and  utensils  of  the  natives 
of  the  soil.  It  would  be  a  most  interesting  collection.  They 
were  no  effete  Asiatics,  but  a  brave,  warlike,  hardy  people. 
Their  history  is  filled  with  poetry  and  romance.  Even  Cooper, 
while  presenting  in  a  Magna  the  wild,  untamable,  vindictive 
savage,  depicts  on  the  same  scene  an  Uncas  brave,  noble,  and 
devoted. 

About  three  miles  from  Sudbury  Mills  and  four  from  Marl- 
borough is  the  old  Wayside  Inn,  which  Longfellow  has  made 
famous.  It  stands  in  a  sequestered  nook  among  the  hills  which 
upheave  the  neighboring  region  like  ocean  billows.  For  nearly 
two  hundred  years,  during  the  greater  part  of  which  it  has  been 
occupied  as  a  tavern,  this  ancient  hostelry  has  stood  here  with 
its  door  hospitably  open  to  wayfarers. 


A   FRAGMENT    OF   KING    PHILIPS    WAR. 


421 


In  the  olden  time  the  road  possessed  the  importance  of  a 
much-travelled  highway.  At  present  the  house  is  like  a  waif 
on  the  seashore,  left  high  and  dry  by  some  mighty  tide,  or  a 
landmark  which  shows  where  the  current  of  travel  once  flowed. 
Its  distance  from  the  capital  made  it  a  convenient  halting-place 
for  travellers  going  into  or  returning  from  Boston.  Its  reputa- 
tion for  good  cheer  was  second  to  none  in  all  the  Bay  Colony. 

"  As  ancient  is  this  hostelry 
As  any  in  tlie  land  may  be, 
Built  in  the  old  Colonial  day, 
Wlien  men  lived  in  a  grander  way, 
With  ampler  hospitality." 

The  name  of  the  house  was  the  Red  Horse,  and  at  the  other 
end  of  the  route,  belonging  to  the  same  family,  in  rivalry  of 
good  cheer,  Avas  the  White  Horse 
in  Old  Boston  Town.  The  horse 
has  always  been  a  favorite  symbol 
with  publicans.  However  tedious 
the  way  may  have  been,  however 
shambling  or  void  of  spirit  your 
hackney  of  the  road,  the  steed  on 
the  hostel  sign  always  pranced 
proudly,  was  of  high  mettle,  and 
of  as  gallant  carriage  as  was  ever 
blazoned  on  Saxon's  shield. 

The  Red  Horse  in  Sudbury  was  built  about  1686.  From 
the  year  1714  to  near,  if  not  quite,  the  completion  of  a  cen- 
tury and  a  half,  it  was  kept  as  an  inn  by  generation  after  gen- 
eration of  the  Howes,  the  last  being  Lyman  Howe,  who  served 
the  guests  of  the  house  from  1831  until  about  1860.  The 
tavern  stood  about  half-way  on  the  great  road  to  Worces- 
ter, measuring  twenty-three  good  English  miles  from  Boston 
Town- House. 

Well,  those  were  good  old  times,  after  all.  A  traveller,  after 
a  hard  day's  jaunt,  pulls  up  at  the  Red  Horse.  The  landlord 
is  at  the  door,  hat  in  hand,  with  a  cheery  welcome,  and  a  shout 
to  the  blacks  to  care  for  the  stranger's  beast.     Is  it  winter,  a 


SIGN   OF   THE    WAYSIDE    INN. 


422       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

mimic  conflagi*ation  roars  on  the  hearth.  A  bowl  of  punch  is 
brewed,  smoking  hot.  The  guest,  nothing  loath,  swallows  the 
mixture,  heaves  a  deep  sigh,  and  declares  himself  better  for 
a  thousand  pounds.  Soon  there  comes  a  summons  to  table, 
where  good  wholesome  roast-beef,  done  to  that  perfection  of 
which  the  turnspit  only  was  capable,  roasted  potatoes  with 
their  russet  jackets  brown  and  crisp,  and  a  loaf  as  white  as  the 
landlady's  Sunday  cap  send  up  an  appetizing  odor.  Our  guest 
falls  to.  Hunger  is  a  good  trencherman,  and  he  would  have 
scorned  your  modern  tidbits,  — jellies,  truffles,  amd  pates  ctfois 
ffras.  For  drink,  the  well  was  deep,  the  water  pure  and  spark- 
ling, but  home-brewed  ale  or  cider  was  at  the  guest's  elbow, 
and  a  cup  of  chocolate  finished  his  repast.  He  begins  to  be 
drowsy,  and  is  lighted  to  an  upper  chamber  by  some  pretty 
maid-of-all-work,  who,  finding  her  pouting  lips  in  danger,  is 
perhaps  compelled  to  stand  on  the  defensive  with  the  warm- 
ing-pan she  has  but  now  so  dexterously  passed  between  the 
frigid  sheets.  At  parting,  Boniface  holds  his  guest's  stirrup, 
warns  him  of  the  ford  or  the  morass,  and  bids  him  good  speed. 
Our  modern  landlord  is  a  person  whose  existence  we  take 
upon  trust.  He  is  never  seen  by  the  casual  guest,  and  if  he 
were,  is  far  too  great  a  man  for  common  mortals  to  expect 
speech  of  him.  He  sits  in  a  parlor,  with  messengers,  perhaps 
the  telegraph,  at  his  beck  and  call.  His  feet  rest  on  velvet, 
liis  body  reclines  on  air-cushions.  You  must  at  least  be  an 
English  milord,  a  Russian  prince,  or  an  American  Senator,  to 
receive  the  notice  of  such  a  magnate.  It  is  a  grave  question 
whether  he  knows  what  his  guests  are  eating,  or  if,  in  case  of 
fire,  their  safety  is  secured.  His  bank-book  occupies  his  undi- 
vided attention.  "  Like  master,  like  man."  Your  existence  is 
all  but  ignored  by  the  lesser  gentry.  You  fee  the  boot-black, 
tip  the  waiter,  drop  a  douceur  into  the  chambermaid's  palm, 
and,  at  your  departure,  receive  a  vacant  stare  from  the  curled, 
mustached  personage  who  hands  you  your  bill.  At  entering 
one  of  these  huge  caravansaries  you  feel  your  individuality  lost, 
your  identity  gone,  in  the  living  throng.  Neglected,  heavy- 
hearted,  but  lighter,  far  lighter  in  purse  than  when  you  came. 


A  FRAGMENT   OF  KING   PHILIP'S   WAR.  423 

you  pass  but  under  a  marble  portico  and  drift  away  with  the 
stream.  Give,  O  publican,  the  stranger  a  welcome,  a  shake  of 
the  hand,  a  nod  at  parting,  and  put  it  in  the  bill. 

Coming  from  the  direction  of  Marlborough,  at  a  little  dis- 
tance, the  gambrel  roof  of  the  Wayside  Inn  peeps  above  a  dense 
mass  of  foliage.  A  sharp  turn  of  the  road,  which  once  passed 
under  a  triumphal  arch  composed  of  two  lordly  elms,  and  you 
are  before  the  house  itself.  On  the  other  side  the  broad  space 
left  for  the  road  are  the  capacious  barns  and  outhouses  belong- 
ing to  the  establishment,  and  standing  there  like  a  blazed  tree 
in  a  clearing,  but  bereft  of  its  ancient  symbol,  the  sight  of 
which  gladdened  the  hearts  of  many  a  weary  traveller,  is  also 
the  old  sign-post. 

The  interior  of  the  inn  is  spacious  and  cool,  as  was  suited  to 
a  haven  of  rest.  A  dozen  apartments  of  one  of  our  modern 
hotels  could  be  set  up  within  the  space  allotted  to  his  patrons 
by  mine  host  of  the  Wayside.  Escaping  from  a  cramped  stage- 
coach, or  the  heat  of  a  July  day,  our  visitor's  lungs  would  here 
begin  to  expand  ''like  chanticleer,"  as,  flinging  his  flaxen  wig 
into  a  corner,  and  hanging  his  broad-flapped  coat  on  a  peg,  he 
sits  unbraced,  with  a  bowl  of  the  jolly  landlord's  extra-brewed 
in  one  hand,  and  a  long  clay  pipe  in  the  other,  master  of  the 
situation. 

Everything  remains  as  of  old.  There  is  the  bar  in  one  corner 
of  the  common  room,  with  its  wooden  portcullis,  made  to  be 
hoisted  or  let  down  at  pleasure,  but  over  which  never  appeared 
that  ominous  announcement,  "  No  liquors  sold  over  this  bar." 
The  little  desk  where  the  tipplers'  score  was  set  down,  and  the 
old  escritoire,  looking  as  if  it  might  have  come  from  some  hos- 
pital for  decayed  and  battered  furniture,  are  there  now.  The 
bare  floor,  which  once  received  its  regular  morning  sprinkling 
of  clean  white  sea-sand,  the  bare  beams  and  timbers  overhead, 
from  which  the  whitewash  has  fallen  in  flakes,  and  the  very 
oak  of  which  is  seasoned  with  the  spicy  vapors  steaming  from 
pewter  flagons,  all  remind  us  of  the  good  old  days  before  the 
flood  of  new  ideas.  Governors,  magistrates,  generals,  with 
scores  of  others  whose  names  are  remembered  with  honor,  have 
been  here  to  quaff"  a  health  or  indulge  in  a  drinking-bout. 


424       HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

In  the  guests'  room,  on  the.  left  of  the  entrance,  the  window- 
pane  bears  the  following  recommendation,  cut  with  a  gem  that 
sparkled  on  the  finger  of  that  young  roysterer,  William  Moli- 
neux,  Jr.,  whose  father  was  the  man  that  walked  beside  the 
king's  troops  in  Boston,  to  save  them  from  the  Insults  of  the 
townspeople,  —  the  friend  of  Otis  and  of  John  Adams  :  — 

'•  What  do  you  think 
Here  is  good  drink 
Perhaps  you  may  not  know  it  ; 
.  If  not  in  haste  do  stop  and  taste 

You  merry  folks  will  shew  it. 

Wm.  Moltneux  Jr.  Esq. 
24th  June  1774  Boston." 

The  writer's  hand  became  unsteady  at  the  last  line,  and  it 
looks  as  though  his  rhyme  had  halted  while  he  turned  to  some 
companion  for  a  hint,  or,  what  is  perhaps  more  likely,  here  gave 
manual  evidence  of  the  potency  of  his  draughts. 

A  ramble  through  the  house  awakens  many  memories.  You 
are  shown  the  travellers'  room,  which  they  of  lesser  note  occu- 
pied in  common,  and  the  state  chamber  where  Washington  and 
Lafayette  are  said  to  have  rested.  In  the  garret  the  slaves  were 
accommodated,  and  the  crooknecks  and  red  peppers  hung  from 
the  rafters.  Unfortunately,  the  old  blazonry  and  other  inter- 
esting family  memorials  have  disappeared  under  the  auctioneer's 
hammer. 

Conducted  by  the  presiding  genius  of  the  place,  Mrs.  Dad- 
mun,  we  passed  from  room  to  room  and  into  the  dance-hall, 
annexed  to  the  ancient  building.  The  dais  at  the  end  for 
the  fiddlers,  the  wooden  benches  fixed  to  the  walls,  the  floor 
smoothly  polished  by  many  joyous  feet,  and  the  modest  efli'ort 
at  ornament,  displayed  the  theatre  where  many  a  long  winter's 
night  had  worn  away  into  the  morn  ere  the  company  dispersed 
to  their  beds,  or  the  jangle  of  bells  on  the  frosty  air  betokened 
the  departure  of  the  last  of  the  country  belles.  The  German 
was  unknown ;  Polka,  Eedowa,  Lancers,  were  not ;  but  contra- 
dances,  cotillons,  and  minuets  were  measured  by  dainty  feet, 
and  the  landlord's  wooden  lattice  remained  triced  up  the  livelong 


A   FRAGMENT   OF   KING   PHILIP'S   WAR.  425 

night.  0  the  amorous  glances,  the  laughter,  the  bright  eyes,  and 
the  bashful  whispers  that  these  walls  have  seen  and  listened  to, 
—  and  the  actors  all  dead  and  buried  !  The  place  is  silent  now, 
and  there  is  no  music,  except  you  hear  through  the  open  win- 
dows the  flute-like  notes  of  the  wood-thrush  where  he  sits 
carolling  a  love-ditty  to  his  mate. 

The  road  on  which  stands  the  old  inn  first  became  a  regular 
post-route  about  1711,  a  mail  being  then  carried  over  it  twice 
a  week  to  New  York.  But  as  early  as  1704,  the  year  of  the 
publication  of  the  first  newspaper  in  America,  there  was  a  west- 
ern post  carried  with  greater  or  less  regularity,  and  travellers 
availed  themselves  of  the  post-rider's  company  over  a  tedious, 
dreary,  and  ofttimes  hazardous  road. 

We  have  the  journal  of  Madam  Knight,  of  a  journey  made 
by  her  in  1704,  to  N'ew  Haven,  with  no  other  escort  than  the 
post-rider,  —  an  undertaking  of  which  we  can  now  form  little 
conception.  She  left  Boston  on  the  2d  of  October,  and 
reached  her  destination  on  the  7th.  The  details  of  some 
of  her  trials  appear  sufiiciently  ludicrous.  For  example,  she 
reached,  after  dark,  the  first  night,  a  tavern  where  the  post 
usually  lodged.  On  entering  the  house,  she  was  interrogated 
by  a  young  woman  of  the  family  after  this  fashion  :  — 

"  Law  for  mee  —  what  in  the  world  brings  You  here  at  this  time 
a  night.  I  never  see  a  woman  on  the  Rode  so  Dreadfull  late  in  all 
the  days  of  my  versall  life.  Who  are  You?  Where  are  You 
going  ?     I  'm  scar'd  out  of  my  wits." 

Who  that  has  ever  travelled  an  unknown  route,  finding  the 
farther  he  advanced,  the  farther,  to  all  appearances,  he  was  from 
his  journey's  end,  or  whoever,  finding  himself  bafiled,  has  at 
last  inquired  his  way  of  some  boor,  will  deeply  sympathize 
with  the  tale  of  the  poor  lady's  woes.  At  the  last  stage  of  her 
route,  the  guide  being  unacquainted  with  the  way,  she  asked 
and  received  direction  from  some  she  met. 

"  They  told  us  we  must  Ride  a  mile  or  two  and  turne  downe  a 
Lane  on  the  Right  hand  ;  and  by  their  Direction  wee  Rode  on,  but 
not  Yet  coming  to  y«  turning,  we  mett  a  Young  fellow  and  ask't  him 


426        HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

how  far  it  was  to  the  Lane  which  tiirn'd  do^vn  towards  Guilford. 
Hee  said  wee  must  Ride  a  little  further  and  turn  down  by  the 
Corner  of  uncle  Sam's  Lott.  My  Guide  vented  his  spleen  at  the 
Lubber." 

No  wonder  that  when  safe  at  home  again  in  Old  Boston,  she 
wrote  on  a  pane  of  glass  in  the  house  that  afterwards  became 
that  of  Dr.  Samuel  Mather, — 

"  Now  I  've  returned  poor  Sarah  Knights, 
Thro'  many  toils  and  many  frights  ; 
Over  great  rocks  and  many  stones, 
God  has  presarv'd  from  fracter'd  bones." 

The  use  of  coaches  was  introduced  into  England  by  Fitz 
Alan,  Earl  of  Arundel,  A.  D.  1580.  At  first  they  were  drawn 
by  two  horses  only.  It  was  Buckingham,  the  favorite,  who 
(about  1619)  began  to  have  them  drawn  by  six  horses,  which, 
as  an  old  historian  says,  was  wondered  at  as  a  novelty,  and 
imputed  to  him  a  "  mastering  pride."  Captain  Levi  Pease  was 
the  first  man  to  put  on  a  regular  stage  between  Boston  and 
Hartford,  about  1784. 

The  first  post-route  to  New  York,  over  which  Madam 
Knight  travelled  in  1704,  went  by  the  way  of  Providence, 
Stonington,  New  London,  and  the  shore  of  Long  Island 
Sound.  The  distance  was  255  miles.  We  subjoin  the  itin- 
erary of  the  road  as  far  as  Providence  :  — 

"  From  Boston  South-end  to  Koxbury  Meeting-house  2  miles, 
thence  to  Mr.  Fisher's  at  Dedham  9,  thence  to  Mr.  Whites  *  6,  to 
Mr.  Billings  7,  to  Mr.  Shepard's  at  Wading  River  7,  thence  to  Mr. 
Woodcock's  t  3,  from  thence  to  Mr.  Turpins  at  Providence  14,  or  to 
the  Sign  of  the  Bear  at  Seaconck  10,  thence  to  Providence  4,  to 
Mr.  Potters  in  said  town  8." 

*  Stoughton.  t  Attleborough. 


THE   HOME   OF   RUMFOKE).  427 


CHAPTEK    XX. 

THE    HOME    OF    RUMFORD. 
"  Fortune  does  not  change  men,  it  only  unmasks  them." 

THE  world  knows  by  heart  the  career  of  this  extraordinary 
man.  Sated  with  honors,  he  died  at  Auteuil,  near  Paris, 
August  21,  1814.  Titles,  decorations,  and  the  honorary  dis- 
tinctions of  learned  societies  flowed  in  upon  the  poor  Ameri- 
can youth  such  as  have  seldom  fallen  to  the  lot  of  one  risen 
from  the  ranks  of  the  people.  The  antecedents  and  character 
of  the  man  have  very  naturally  given  rise  to  much  inquiry  and 
speculation. 

Benjamin  Thompson  was  born  in  the  west  end  of  his  grand- 
father's house  in  Xorth  Woburn,  March  26,  1753.  The  room 
where  he  first  drew  breath  is  on  the  left  of  the  entrance,  and 
on  the  first  floor.  As  for  the  house,  it  is  a  plain,  old-fashioned, 
two-story  farm-house,  with  a  gambrel  roof,  out  of  wliich  is 
thrust  one  of  those  immense  chimneys  of  great  breadth  and 
soHdity.  A  large  willow  which  formerly  stood  between  the 
house  and  the  road  has  disappeared,  and  is  no  longer  a  guide  to 
the  spot.  This  ancient  dwelling  has  a  pleasant  situation  on  a 
little  rising  ground  back  from  the  road,  which  here  embraces  in 
its  sweep  the  old  house  and  the  queer  little  meeting-house,  its 
neighbor. 

A  pretty  little  maiden  deftly  binding  shoes,  and  an  elderly 
female  companion  who  had  passed  twenty  years  of  her  Hfe  under 
this  roof,  were  the  occupants  of  the  apartment  in  which  Count 
Rumford  was  born.  A  Connecticut  clock,  which  ticked  noisily 
above  the  old  fireplace,  and  a  bureau,  the  heirloom  of  several 
generations,  w^ere  two  very  dissimilar  objects  among  the  fur- 
niture of  the  room.  There  are  no  relics  of  the  Thompsons 
remaining  there. 


428       HISTORIC   FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

The  father  of  our  subject  died  while  Benjamin  was  yet  an 
infant,  and  the  widowed  mother  made  a  second  marriage  with 
Josiah  Pierce,  Jr.,  of  Woburn,  when  the  future  Count  of  the 
Holy  Roman  Empire  was  only  three  years  old.  After  this 
event  Mrs.  Pierce  removed  from  the  old  house  to  another  which 
formerly  stood  opposite  the  Baldwin  Place,  half  a  mile  nearer 
the  centre  of  Woburn. 

At  the  age  of  thirteen  young  Thompson  was  apprenticed  to 
John  Appleton,  a  shopkeeper  of  Salem,  Massachusetts,  and  in 
1769  he  entered  the  employment  of  Hopestill  Capen  in  Boston. 
While  at  Salem,  Thompson  was  engaged  during  his  leisure 
moments  in  experiments  in  chemistry  and  mechanics,  and  it  is 
recorded  that  in  one  branch  of  science  he  one  day  blew  himself 
up  with  some  explosive  materials  he  was  preparing,  while  on 
the  other  hand  he  walked  one  night  from  Salem  to  Woburn,  a 
distance  of  twenty  odd  miles,  to  exhibit  to  his  friend  Loammi 
Baldwin  a  machine  he  had  contrived,  and  with  which  he  ex- 
pected to  illustrate  the  problem  of  perpetual  motion.  His  mind 
appears  at  this  period  absorbed  in  these  fascinating  studies  to 
an  extent  which  must  have  impaired  his  usefulness  in  his  mas- 
ter's shop. 

A  few  doors  south  of  Boston  Stone  every  one  may  see  an 
antiquated  building  of  red  brick,  a  souvenir  of  the  old  town, 
which  was  standing  here  long  before  the  Revolution.  Strange 
freaks  have  been  playing  in  its  vicinity  since  Benjamin  Thomp- 
son tended  behind  the  counter  there.  The  canal  at  the  back 
has  been  changed  into  solid  earth,  and  sails  are  no  more 
seen  mysteriously  gliding  through  the  streets  from  the  harbor 
to  the  Mill-pond,  The  facsimile  of  Sir  Thomas  Gresham's 
grasshopper,  on  the  pinnacle  of  Faneuil  Hall,  is  about  the 
only  object  left  in  the  neighborhood  familiar  to  the  eye  of 
the  apprentice,  who,  we  may  assume,  would  not  have  been 
absent  from  the  memorable  convocations  which  were  held 
within  the  walls  of  the  old  temple  in  his  day.  The  build- 
ing with  which  Rumford's  name  is  thus  connected  forms 
the  angle  where  Marshall's  Lane  enters  Union  Street,  and 
bears  the  sign  of   the   descendant    of   the  second   oysterman 


THE    HOME   OF    RUMFORD.  429 

in  Boston,   liimself  for  fifty  years  a  vender  of  the  delicious 
bivalve. 

Thompson's  master,  Hopestill  Capen,  becomes  a  public  char- 
acter through  his  apprentice,  whom  he  may  still  have  regarded 
as  of  little  advantage  in  the  shop  by  reason  of  his  strongly 
developed  scientific  vagaries.  Capen  had  been  a  carpenter, 
with  whom  that  good  soldier,  Lemuel  Trescott,  served  his 
time.  He  married  an  old  maid  who  kept  a  little  dry-goods 
store  in  Union  Street,  and  then,  uniting  matrimony  and  trade 
in  one  harmonious  partnership,  abandoned  tools  and  joined  liis 
wife  in  the  shop.  Samuel  Parkman,  afterwards  a  well-known 
Boston  merchant,  was  Thompson's  fellow-apprentice.  The 
famous  Tommy  Capen  succeeded  to  the  shop  and  enjoyed  its 
custom. 

Thompson,  at  nineteen,  went  to  Concord,  i^ew  Hampshire, 
then  known  as  Rumford,  and  from  which  his  titular  designation 
was  taken.  At  this  time  he  was  described  as  of  "  a  fine  manly 
make  and  figure,  nearly  six  feet  in  height,  of  handsome  fea- 
tures, bright  blue  eyes,  and  dark  auburn  hair."  He  soon  after 
married  the  widow  of  Colonel  Benjamin  Eolfe,  a  lady  ten  or  a 
dozen  years  his  senior.  Rumford  himself  is  reported  by  his 
friend  Pictet  as  having  said,  "  I  married,  or  rather  I  was  mar- 
ried, at  the  age  of  nineteen."  One  child,  a  daughter,  was  the 
result  of  this  marriage.  She  was  afterwards  known  as  Sarah, 
Countess  of  Rumford. 

If  Rumford  meant  to  convey  to  Pictet  the  idea  that  his  union 
Avith  Mrs.  Rolfe  was  a  merely  passive  act  on  his  part,  or  that  she 
was  the  wooer  and  he  only  the  consenting  party,  he  put  in  a 
plea  for  his  subsequent  neglect  which  draws  but  little  on  our 
sympathy.  His  wife,  according  to  his  biographers,  took  him 
to  Boston,  clothed  him  in  scarlet,  and  was  the  means  of  intro- 
ducing him  to  the  magnates  of  the  Colony. 

The  idea  forces  itself  into  view  that  at  this  time  Rumford's 
ambition  was  beginning  to  develop  into  the  moving  principle 
of  his  life.  The  society  and  notice  of  his  superiors  in  worldly 
station  appears  to  have  impressed  him  greatly,  and  it  is  evident 
that  the    agitation  which  wide  differences  \vith    the    mother 


430        HISTORIC    FIELDS   AND    MANSIONS    OF   MIDDLESEX. 

country  was  then  causing  in  the  Colonies  did  not  find  in  him 
that  active  sympathy  which  was  the  rule  with  the  young  and 
ardent  spirits  of  his  own  age.  He  grew  up  in  the  midst  of 
troubles  which  moulded  the  men  of  the  Eevolution,  and  at  a 
time  when  not  to  be  with  his  brethren  was  to  be  against  them. 
We  seldom  look  in  a  great  national  crisis  for  hesitation  or  de- 
liberation at  twenty-one. 

Certain  it  is  that  Rumford  fell  under  the  suspicions  of  his 
own  friends  and  neighbors  as  being  inclined  to  the  royalist 
side.  He  met  the  accusation  boldly,  and  as  no  specific  charges 
of  importance  were  made  against  him,  nothing  was  proven. 
The  feeling  against  liim,  however,  was  so  strong  that  he  fled 
from  his  home  to  escape  personal  violence,  taking  refuge  at 
first  at  his  mother's  home  in  Woburn,  and  subsequently  at 
Charlestown. 

Thompson  was  arrested  by  the  AVoburn  authorities  after  the 
battle  of  Lexington,  was  examined,  and  released  ;  but  the  taint 
of  suspicion  still  clung  to  him.  He  petitioned  the  Provincial 
Congress  to  investigate  the  charges  against  him,  but  they  re- 
fused to  consider  the  application.  He  remained  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  camps  at  Cambridge,  A'ainly  endeavoring  to  procure  a 
commission  in  the  service  of  the  Colony,  until  October,  1775, 
when  he  suddenly  took  liis  departure,  and  is  next  heard  of 
within  the  enemy's  lines  at  Boston. 

In  the  short  time  intervening  between  October  and  March, 
—  the  month  in  which  Howe's  forces  evacuated  Boston,  — 
Thompson  had  acquired  such  a  confidential  relation  with  that 
general  as  to  be  made  the  bearer  of  the  official  news  of  the  end 
of  the  siege  to  Lord  George  Germaine.  He  does  not  seem  to 
have  embraced  the  opportunity  of  remaining  neutral  under 
British  protection,  as  did  hundreds  of  others,  but  at  once 
makes  himself  serviceable,  and  casts  his  lot  with  the  British 
army. 

It  has  been  well  said  that  nothing  can  justify  a  man  in  be- 
coming a  traitor  to  his  country.  Thompson's  situation  with 
the  army  at  Cambridge  must  have  been  wellnigh  intolerable, 
but  he  had  always  the  alternative  of  living  down  tlie  clamors 


THE    HOME   OF    RUMFORD.  431 

against  him,  or  of  going  into  voluntary  exile.  His  choice 
of  a  course  which  enabled  him  to  do  the  most  harm  to  the 
cause  of  his  countrymen  gives  good  reason  to  doubt  whether 
the  attachment  he  had  once  professed  for  their  quarrel  was 
grounded  on  any  fixed  principles.  Be  that  as  it  may,  from 
the  time  he  clandestinely  withdrew  from  the  Americans 
until  the  end  of  the  war  his  talents  and  knowledge  were 
directed  to  their  overthrow  with  all  the  zeal  of  wliich  he  was 
capable. 

From  this  point  Rumford's  career  is  a  matter  of  history.  At 
his  death  he  was  a  count  of  the  Holy  Roman  Empire,  lieuten- 
ant-general in  the  service  of  Bavaria,  F.  R.  S.,  Foreign  Fellow 
of  the  French  Institute,  besides  being  a  knight  of  the  orders  of 
St.  Stanislaus  and  of  the  White  Eagle. 

Rumford  had  derived  some  advantage  from  his  attendance  at 
the  lectures  of  Professor  Winthrop,  of  Harvard  University,  on 
Natural  Philosophy.  With  his  friend,  Loammi  Baldwin,  he 
had  been  accustomed  to  walk  from  Woburn  to  Cambridge  to 
be  present  at  these  lectures.  Being  at  the  camp,  he  had  assisted 
in  packing  up  the  apparatus  for  removal  when  the  College 
buildings  were  occupied  by  the  soldiery.  In  his  will  he  re- 
membered the  University  by  a  legacy  of  a  thousand  dollars 
annually,  besides  the  reversion  of  other  sums,  for  the  purpose 
of  founding  a  professorship  in  the  physical  and  mathematical 
sciences,  the  improvement  of  the  useful  arts,  and  for  the  exten- 
sion of  industry,  prosperity,  and  the  well-being  of  society. 
Jacob  Bigelow,  M.  D.,  was  the  first  incumbent  of  the  chair  of 
this  professorship. 

A  miniature  of  Count  Rumford,  from  which  the  portrait  in 
Sparks's  Biography  was  engraved,  is  now  in  the  possession  of 
George  W.  Pierce,  Esq.  The  Count  is  painted  in  a  blue  coat, 
across  which  is  worn  a  broad  blue  ribbon.  A  decoration  ap- 
pears on  the  left  breast.  The  miniature,  a  work  of  much 
artistic  excellence,  bears  a  certain  resemblance  to  the  late  Presi- 
dent Pierce,  a  distant  relative  of  the  Count.  It  is  a  copy  from 
a  portrait  painted  by  Kellenhofer  of  Munich,  in  1792,  and  is 
inscribed  on  the  back,  probably  in  Rumford's  own  hand,  "  Pre- 


432      HISTORIC  FIELDS   AND   MANSIONS   OF  MIDDLESEX. 

sented  by  Count  Eumford  to  his  much  loved  and  respected 
mother  1799." 

Colonel  Loammi  Baldwin,  the  companion  of  Thompson  in 
early  youth,  and  who  manfully  stood  up  for  his  friend  in  the 
midst  of  persecution,  when  the  name  of  tory  was  of  itseK  suffi- 
cient to  cause  the  severance  of  life-long  attachments,  lived  in 
the  large  square  house  on  the  west  side  of  the  road  before  you 
come  to  the  birthplace  of  Thompson.  The  house  has  three 
stories,  is  ornamented  with  pillars  at  each  corner,  and  has  a 
balustrade  around  the  roof  In  front  is  a  row  of  fine  elms,  with 
space  for  a  carriage- drive  between  them  and  the  mansion.  The 
house  could  not  be  mistaken  for  any  tiling  else  than  the  country- 
seat  of  one  of  the  town  notabilities. 

Baldwin's  sympathies  were  wholly  on  the  side  of  the  patri- 
ots, and  he  was  at  once  found  in  the  ranks  of  their  army.  He 
was  at  Lexington,  at  the  siege  of  Boston,  and  in  the  surprise  at 
Trenton,  where  a  battahon  of  his  regiment,  the  26  th  Massachu- 
setts, went  into  action  with  sixteen  officers  and  one  hundred 
and  ninety  men.  Wesson,  Baldwin's  lieutenant-colonel,  and 
Isaac  Sherman,  his  major,  were  both  in  this  battle,  leading 
MigheU's,  Badlam's,  and  Robinson's  companies. 

Colonel  Baldwin  resigned  before  the  close  of  the  war,  and 
was  appointed  High  Sheriff  of  Middlesex  in  1780.  He  has 
already  been  named  in  connection  with  his  great  project,  the 
Middlesex  Canal.  He  discovered  and  improved  the  apple 
known  by  his  name,  and  if  that  excellent  gift  of  Pomona  is 
king  among  fruits,  the  Baldwin  is  monarch  of  the  orchard.  His 
son  Loammi  inherited  liis  father's  mechanical  genius.  While 
a  student  at  Harvard  he  made  with  his  pocket-knife  a  wooden 
clock,  the  wonder  of  his  fellow- collegians.  The  Western  Ave- 
nue, formerly  the  Mill  Dam,  in  Boston,  and  the  government 
docks  at  Charlestown  and  Newport,  are  monuments  of  his  skill 
as  an  engineer. 

Woburn  was  originally  an  appanage  of  ancient  Charlestown, 
and  was  settled  in  1640  under  the  name  of  Charlestown  Vil- 
lage. Among  its  founders  the  name  of  Thomas  Graves  —  the 
sa,me  whom    Cromwell   named   a  rear-admiral  —  appears.      A 


THE   HOME   OF   RUMFORD.  433 

confusion,  not  likely  to  be  solved,  exists  as  to  whether  he  was 
the  same  Thomas  Graves  who  laid  out  Charlestown  in  1629, 
and  is  known  as  the  engineer.  The  admiral,  however,  is  en- 
titled to  the  distinction  of  having  commanded,  in  1643,  the 
"  Tryal,"  the  first  ship  built  in  Boston. 

"  Our  revels  now  are  ended  ;  these  our  actors, 
As  I  foretold  you,  were  all  spirits,  and 
Are  melted  into  air,  into  thin  air  ; 
And,  like  the  baseless  fabric  of  this  vision. 
The  cloud-capped  towers,  the  gorgeous  palaces, 
The  solemn  temples,  the  great  globe  itself, 
Yea,  all  which  it  inherit,  shall  dissolve. 
And  like  this  insubstantial  pageant  faded, 
Leave  not  a  rack  behind." 


19 


INDEX 


Adams,  Hannah,  337. 

Adams,  'John,  68,  337. 

Adams,  John  Quincy,  226. 

Adams,  Samuel,  at  Lexington,  365-368. 

Alcott,  A.  Bronson,  his  residence  and 

family,  376-378. 
Alcott,  Louisa  May,  378. 
Alcott,  May,  378. 
Aldrich,  Thomas  Bailey,  318. 
Allston,     Washington,     residence    at 

Cambridge,  193  ;  works  of,  193, 194  ; 

burial-place,  279. 
Amory,  Thomas  C,  93. 
Anchor,  the  history  of,  39. 
Andrew,  John  A.,  409. 
Appleton,  Nathaniel,  215. 
Apthorp,  East,  197,  273,  274. 
Arlington,  incidents  of  battle  at,  398  - 

405. 
Arnold,  Benedict,  at  Bemis's  Heights, 

133  ;  at  Cambridge,  257,  325  ;  anec-, 

dotes  of,  258,  272,  308. 
Artillery,  American,  152-155. 
Auvergne,  Philip  d',  358. 

B. 

Baldwin,  Loammi,  81,  431,  432. 

Baldwin,  Loammi,  Jr.,  40. 

Baldwin,  Captain  Jonathan,  187. 

Ballard,  John,  anecdote  of,  354. 

Barker,  Josiah,  residence  of,  28  ;  re- 
builds Constitution,  40;  sketch  of,  41. 

Barren,  Joseph,  172,  177,  178. 

Batchelder,  Samuel,  283 ;  residence  of, 
285. 

Baylor,  George,  300. 

Bayonet,  history  of  the,  247. 


Belcher,  Andrew,  214. 

Belcher,  Governor  Jonathan,  death  and 

burial,  279  ;  resi<lemce  of,  285,  286. 
Belknap,  Dr.  Jeremy,  68. 
Bennington  battle,  incidents  of,126, 127; 

trophies  of,  128,  129;  prisoners,  128. 
Bernard,  Governor  Francis,  228. 
Bigelow,  Dr.  Jacob,  330,  338. 
Bird,  Joseph,  346. 
Bissell  Trial,  397. 
Bond,  William  C,  201. 
Borland,  John,  197. 
Boston,  blockade  of,  in  1781,  35  ;  naval 

battle  in  harbor,   35 ;    Grenadiers, 

178;    bombardment    of,   181,   182; 

relics  of  siege,  265. 
Boston  Frigate,  armament  of,  34. 
Bourne,  Nehemiah,  12. 
Boutwell,  George  S.,  418. 
Boylston,  Nicholas,  225,  226. 
Bradstreet,  Governor  Simon,  351. 
Branding,  examples  of,  171. 
Brattle's  Mall,  280,  281. 
Brattle  Street  Church  (Boston),  ball 

in,  182. 
Brattle,  Thomas,  281. 
Brattle,  Thomas,  son  of  William,  281, 

282. 
Brattle,  William,  281. 
Braj^  Major  John,  97,  184. 
Brimmer,  George  W.,  338. 
Brocklebank,  Captain,  416,  417. 
Brooks,  Governor  John,  residence  and 

sketch  of,  133,  134. 
Bunker,  George,  80. 
Bunker   Hill    Monument,   history  of, 

73-79. 
Bunker     (Breed's)    Hill,     battle    of, 

British  landing-place,  48,  49  ;  Brit- 


436 


INDEX. 


ish  regiments  engaged,  53  ;  losses 
in,  56,  57  ;  anecdotes  of,  56-60  ; 
Trumbull's  picture,  60 ;  question  of 
command,  60  -  63  ;  anecdotes  of,  64, 
65;  redoubts,  etc.,  65,  66;  disap- 
pearance of,  66  ;  anomalous  author- 
ity of  American  officers,  66  -  68 ;  ac- 
coimts  of,  70  -  73 ;  American  hos- 
pital, 71 ;  prisoners,  71 ;  slaughter 
of  British  officers,  72,  73;  Bunker 
Hill  proper  fortified,  80,  81. 

Burbeck,  Captain  Henrj^,  173. 

Burgoyne,  General  John,  in  Boston, 
59;  arrives  at  Cambridge,  158  ;  re- 
turns to  England,  165;  residence  in 
Cambridge,  197. 

Burr,  Aaron,  anecdotes  of,  104,  105. 


C. 


Cambridge,  fortifications,  180  - 187, 
213,  243,  244;  settlement  of,  195, 
196;  first  church,  211,  212;  Ferry, 
212 ;  topography  of,  212,  213;  Court- 
House,  217  ;  camps  at,  245;  Com- 
mon, 245  et  seq.;  old  burial-place, 
276-280. 

Campbell,  Colonel  Archibald,  89 ; 
imprisoned  at  Concord,  382,  383. 

Capen,  Hopestill,  428. 

Carter,  Robert,  323. 

Cartwright,  Cufi",  358. 

Cipher  of  United  States,  origin  of,  47- 

Channing,  W.  E.,  200. 

Chardon,  Peter,  181. 

Charles  River,  named,  2;  bridged,  3-5. 

Charles  River  Bridge,  projected,  3  ; 
built  and  opened,  4,  5 ;  building 
committee,  6. 

Charlestown  Lane,  357. 

Charlestown  Ferry  established  and 
granted  to  Harvard  College,  5  ;  ex- 
change of  prisoners  at,  8,  9. 

Charlestown,  topography  and  settle- 
ment, 8  ;  dispersion  of  inhabitants, 
8  ;  site  of  the  "Great  House"  and 
first  ordinary  in,'  9 ;  old  burial-place, 
11  ;  distinguished  citizens  of,  10. 

Christ  Church  (Boston),  ,bells  of,  52. 

Christ  Church  (Cambridge),  273-276. 


j  Church,  Dr.  Benjamin,  residence  of, 
286;  his  treason,  287,  288. 

Chelsea  Bridge,  built,  7. 

Claflin,  William,  residence  of,  351. 

Claghorn,  Colonel  George,  constructs 
frigate  Constitution,  29. 

Clap,  Preserved,  154. 

Clarke,  James  Freeman,  352. 

Clarke,  Samuel,  352. 

Clarke,  Samuel  C,  352. 

Clark's  House  (Lexington),  364  ;  occu- 
pied by  Hancock  and  Adams,  365. 

Clark,  Rev.  Jonas,  363,  367. 

Cleaveland,  Colonel,  183. 

Clinton,  General  Sir  Henry,  80. 

Cobble  Hill  (McLean  Asylum),  forti- 
fied, 172 ;  prisoners  on,  177;  Barrell's 
palace,  177;   Insane  Asylum,  178. 

Codman,  Captain  John,  murder  of, 
169,  170. 

Coffin,  John,  at  Bunker  Hill,  57. 

Colonial  Army,  early  composition  of, 
246  ;  in  1775,  247  -  254;  location  of 
regiments,  249  ;  roster  in  Cambridge, 
250  ;  rtag  of,  251,  252:  punishments, 

i    252  ;  uniform,  253,  254. 

Conmiittee  of  Safety,  rendezvous  of, 
257. 

Concord,  371-394;  approach  to,  372, 
373;  topography  in  1775,  380-383  ; 
Old  Court  House,  380;  grist-mill 
and  jail,  381 ;  mill-pond,  383  ;  Old 
Hubbard  House,  384  ;  hill  burial- 
ground,  385  ;  battle  monument,  387 
-389;. named,  389;  Old  Manse,  389 
-392;  retreat  from,  393,  394;  Mer- 
riam's  Corner,  393. 

Constitution,  frigate,  incident  of  her 
building,  29,  30;  cruise  in  tlie  East 
Indies,  30;  conflict  with  the  Guer- 
riere,  32,  33;  rebuilt  in  Charlestown, 
40;  story  of  the  figure-head,  41-44; 
action  with  the  Java,  47  ;  has  the 
first  made  mast  in  our  navy,  47  ; 
memorials  of,  50 ;  lines  to,  363. 

Convent  of  St.  Ursula,  91-95. 

Convention  troops,  march  to  Rutland, 
163;  barracks  at,  described,  164  ; 
march  to  Virginia,  165. 

Cook,  John,  residence  of,  348. 


INDEX. 


437 


Coolidge,  Charles,  378. 

Coolidge,  Joseph,  378. 

Copley,  John  S.,  works  of,  225. 

Copper  sheathing,  origin  of,  47. 

Cox,  Lemuel,  builds  Charles  River 
Bridge,  3,  4  ;  sketch  of,  6. 

Cradock's  Fort,  134. 

Cradock,  Governor  Matthew,  134,  135, 
136;  dies,  139. 

Craigie,  Andrew,  179. 

Cresap,  Michael,  88. 

Curtis,  George  William,  379,  380. 

Cushman,  Charlotte,  birthplace  of,  22; 
anecdotes  of  early  life,  22 ;  first  ap- 
pearance in  public,  22 ;  studies  for 
the  stage,  23;  debut  in  London,  23, 
24  ;  Cushman  School,  25. 

D. 

Dana  Hill,  199 ;  mansion,  200. 

Dana,  Judge  Francis,  200. 

Dana,  Richard  H.,  200. 

Dane,  Nathan,  218,  219. 

Davis,  Isaac,  killed,  408. 

Davis,  Judge  John,  residence  of,  59. 

Dawes,  Major  Thomas,  173. 

Daye,  Stephen,  224. 

Dearborn,  General  Henry,  105  ;  at 
Monmouth,  106. 

Derby,  George  H.,  380. 

Derby,  Richard,  370. 

Dewey,  Samuel  P.,  exploit  with  Con- 
stitution's figure-head,  41  -  44. 

Dickerson,  Mahlon,  43,  44. 

Dickinson,  Edward,  193. 

Dirty  Marsh,  27. 

Doncaster,  England,  night  surprise  at, 
12, 13. 

Dorchester  Heights,  occupation  of,  pro- 
posed, 260,  261. 

Downer,  Eliphalet,  duel  with  the  regu- 
lar, 399. 

Downing,  Sir  George,  238. 

Dudley,  Thomas,  residence  of,  112. 

Duer,  William,  303. 

Dunster,  Henry,  211. 

E. 

E<les,  Benjamin,  printing-office  of,  347, 
348. 


Edes,  Thomas,  19. 

Ellsworth,  Annie  G.,  dictates  first  tel- 
egraphic message,  21. 
Emerson,  Rev.  William,  389. 
Emerson,  Ralph  Waldo,  378,  379. 
Essex  Bridge  built,  6, 
Eustis,  William,  burial-place  of,  370. 
Everett,  Edward,  11,  80,  210,  211. 


Fayerweather,  John,  414. 

Fayerweather,  Thomas,  316. 

Fife,  the,  introduced  into  British  army, 

248. 
First  church  (Cambridge),  sites  of,  211, 

212 ;  Provincial  Congress  sits  in,  215. 
Flags  of  truce,  methods  of  conducting 

before  Boston,  86,  87. 
Flucker,  Thomas,  63. 
Foot  of  the  Rocks,  359. 
Fox,  Jabez,  residence  of,  256. 
Eraser,  Simon,  382. 
Fresh  Pond,  340;  ice-traffic  of,  344, 345. 
Fuller,  Abraham,  351. 
Fuller,  Joseph,  351. 
Fuller,  John,  351. 
Fuller,  Sarah,  351. 
Fuller,  Sarah  Margaret,  birthplace  of, 

192. 
Funeral  customs,  331  -  333. 

G. 

Gage,  General  Thomas,  8,  63,  356. 

Gardiner,  Rev.  J.  S.  J.,  anecdote  of,  18. 

Gates,  General  Horatio,  104,  299. 

Gergeroux,  Marquis  de,  banquet  to,  36. 

Gerry,  Elbridge,  317,  320. 

Gerr}Tnander,  history  of  the,  320-322. 

Gibbeting,  instances  of,  169,  170. 

Gibbet  in  Middlesex,  location  of,  170. 

Gibbs,  Major  Caleb,  Washington's  re- 
buke of,  15,  27  ;  commands  Life 
Guard,  308. 

Gilbert,  John,  birthplace  of,  22. 

Glover,  Colonel  John,  quarters  of,  292  - 
294. 

Gookin,  Daniel,  200. 

Gordon,  Rev.  William,  347. 

Gorham,  Nathaniel,  sketch  of,  14  - 16. 


438 


INDEX. 


Graves,  Samuel,  358, 

Graves,  Thomas,  432. 

Greene,  Catharine,  Eli  Whitney  a  jpro- 
tege  of,  152. 

Greene,  General  Nathaniel,  Knox's 
opinion  of,  149  ;  camp  on  Prospect 
Hill,  149 ;  trial  of  Andre,  150 ;  money 
embarrassments,  150,  151,  272. 

Green,  Samuel,  224. 

Gridley,  Colonel  Richard,  187. 

H. 

Haldimand,  General,  355. 

Hamilton,  Alexander,  300. 

Hancock  Frigate,  armament  of,  34. 

Hancock,  John,  at  Lexington,  365- 
370. 

Hancock,  Thomas,  225,  368. 

Hand,  General  Edward,  90. 

Harrington,  Jonathan,  361. 

Hariington,  Daniel,  361. 

Harris,  Lord  George,  at  Bunker  Hill, 
56,  57. 

Hartt,  Edmund,  naval  yard  of,  27. 

Harvard  College,  CharlestoAvn  Ferry 
granted  to,  5 ;  tirst  observatory,  201 ; 
Fellows'  Orchard,  201;  Gore  Hall, 
201;  College  libraries,  201-206; 
President's  house,  206-212;  Dane 
Hall,  218;  early  accounts,  221,  222, 
229;  enclosures,  222;  building  and 
sites  of  old  Halls,  223 ;  College  Press, 
223,  224;  Massachusetts,  224,  225; 
Portrait  Gallery,  225,  226;  lotteries, 
226,  227;  buildings  used  for  bar- 
racks, 227;  Harvard,  227,  228;  Hol- 
lis,  229;  Holden  Chapel,  229,  230; 
Holworthy,  230;  University  Hall, 
230;  customs,  232,  233;  clubs,  234: 
Commencement,  234,  235;  dress  of 
students,    235,    236;    Oxford  caps, 

237,  238;   distinguished   graduates, 

238.  239;  historic  associations,  240, 
241;  outbreaks  of  students,  241,  242; 
American  works,  243,  244 ;  seal,  242. 

Harvard,  John,  10;  library  and  monu- 
ment, 11. 
Hastings,  Jonathan,  256. 
Hastings,  Rebecca,  261. 
Hastings,  Walter,  256,  257. 


Hawthorne,  Nathaniel,  residence  in 
Concord,  373,  391. 

Henley,  Colonel  David,  court-martial 
of,  160;  sketch  of,  161,  162. 

Hessians,  appearance  of,  158;  uniform 
and  colors,  315,  316. 

Hewes,  Shubael,  1^71. 

Hollis,  Thomas,  226. 

Holmes,  Abiel,  262. 

Holmes,  0.  W.,  254,  262. 

Hopkins,  Commander  Ezekiel,  per- 
sonal appearance  of,  38. 

Hoppin,  Rev.  Nicholas,  275. 

Hosmer,  Abuer,  408;  John,  381. 

Hovey,  C.  M.,  186. 

Howard,  Caroline,  324. 

Howard,  Samuel,  324. 

Howe,  Lyman,  421. 

Hudson,  Frederick,  380. 

Hudson,  William,  12. 

Hull,  Commodore  Isaac,  described,  31, 
32;  superintends  docking  the  Con- 
stitution, 40. 

Hull,  General  William,  tomb  of,  349 ; 
sketch  of,  350  -  352. 

Humphreys,  David,  300. 

Humphreys,  Joshua,  reports  in  favor  of 
Charlestown  as  a  naval  station,  27. 


Inman,  Ralph,  187-189. 

J. 

Jackson,  Colonel  Henry,  27;  residence, 

348. 
Jackson,  Colonel  Michael,  349. 
Jaques,  Samuel,  99. 
Jones,  Ephraim,  381,  382. 
Jones,  Commodore  John  Paul,  hoists 

American  flag,  38. 
Joy,  Benjamin,  178. 

K. 

Kent,  Duke  of,  310,  311. 
Kent,  Judge  William,  284. 
Keyes,  George,  389. 
Keyes,  John  S.,  392. 
Kirkland,  John  T.,  209. 


INDEX. 


439 


Knight,  Sarah,  journey  to  New  York 

in  1704,  425,  426. 

Kuox,  General  Henry,  27,  56  ;  book- 
store of,  172  ;  accident,  173  ;  mar- 
riage, 174  ;  at  Trenton,  175;  birth- 
place, 177,  187,  272,  275;  residence, 
348. 

Knox,  Lucy  (Flucker),  173, 176,  177. 

Knox,  William,  173. 

L. 

Lafayette,  Marquis,  303,  304. 

Lardner,  Dionysius,  prediction  of,  35. 

Lechmere's  I*oint,  179;  British  land  at, 
180  ;  access  to,  180 ;  fort  on,  180  - 
184;  executions  at,  184. 

Lechmere,  Richard,  179. 

Leclimere,  Thomas,  179. 

Lee,  General  Charles,  annoimces  his 
arrival  to  the  enemy,  85,  86;  quar- 
ters of,  129,  141  ;  sketch  and  anec- 
dotes of,  142-144;  alleged  treason, 
145  ;  incidents  of  his  capture,  146  ; 
singular  request  and  death,  147, 148, 
272. 

Lee,  Joseph,  316. 

Lee,  Colonel  William  R.,  107. 

Leonard,  Rev.  Abiel,  191. 

Leverett,  Governor  John,  serves  with 
Cromwell,  12;  portrait  of,  14. 

Lexington,  battle  of.  Prisoners  of,  ex- 
changed, 8,  9  ;  Smith's  march  to, 
354-364;  topography  of  the  Com- 
mon, 360 ;  meeting-house  and  belfry, 
360,  361  ;  battle  monument,  362, 
363;  Clark  House,  364-369;  burial- 
ground,  370;  Fiske's  Hill  and  the 
road  to  Concord,  371  ;  Smith's  junc- 
tion with  Percy,  and  the  retreat, 
395,  396. 

Lightning  conductors  first  applied  to 
vessels,  47. 

Linzee,  Captain  John,  188,  189. 

Longfellow,  H.  W.,  description  of  his 
residence,  290,  312. 

Long,  Samuel,  innkeeper,  9. 

Lowell,  Rev,  Charles,  317,  322. 

Lowell,  James  Russell,  817  ;  home  of, 
318,  323,  324. 

Lurvey,  James,  258. 


Magoun,  Thatcher,  41. 

Maiden  Bridge,  built,  6,  83. 

Mallet,  Andrew,  110. 

Mallet,  John,  110. 

Mallet,  Michael,  110. 

Martin,  Michael,  career  and  execntion 
of,  97,  184,  185. 

Mason,  David,  174,  183. 

Mather,  Increase,  211. 

McLean  Asylum,  172. 

McLean,  John,  172. 

Massachusetts  Bay  divided  into  shires, 
7. 

Mass.  Horticultural  Society,  337,  338. 

Merrimac  Frigate,  launch  and  history 
of,  45,  46. 

Middlesex  Canal,  81,  82. 

Middlesex  County  formed,  7. 

Mifflui,  Thomas,  residence  of,  282,  283, 
300. 

Military  roads  in  1775,  83,  84. 

Miller's  River  (Willis's  Creek),  179, 180. 

Molineux,  William,  Jr.,  424. 

Moncrieflf,  Major,  officiates  at  an  ex- 
change of  prisoners,  8,  9. 

Monmouth,  battle  of,  incidents  of,  106, 
163. 

Morgan,  General  Daniel,  accoimt  of 
his  corps,  87  -  90. 

Morse,  Samuel  F.  B.,  birthplace  of,  19; 
first  attempts  at  painting,  20 ;  con- 
ception of  the  telegraph,  20  ;  first 
line  and  message,  21. 

Morse,  Jedediah,  16-18;  residence,  19. 

Moulton's  Point  (Moreton's  or  Mor- 
ton's), British  landing-place  at  bat- 
tle of  Bunker  Hill,  27 ;  fortified,  28. 

Mount  Auburn,  326-340;  the  Tower, 
329;  the  Chapel  and  statuary,  335- 
337;  origin  of,  337,  338. 

Mount  Pisgah.     See  Prospect  Hill. 

Murray,  Samuel,  357. 

N. 

Napoleon  I.,  his  opinion  of  American 

sailors,  46. 
Navy  Yard,  Charlestown,  26-51;  first 

Government  yards,  27  ;  history  of 


440 


INDtfx. 


Charlestown  purchase,  27;  surround- 
ings, 28 ;  commanders  of,  29  -  33  ; 
the  park  of  artillery,  33  ;  compared 
with  Woolwich,  34  ;  dry  dock,  40 ; 
famous  vessels  built  at,  44  -  46 ; 
landing  of  Sir  William  Howe,  48,  49  ; 
area,  cost,  and  original  proprietors, 
49,  50 ;  Naval  Institute  and  tro- 
phies, 50. 

Nelson,  Horatio,  nobl^  conduct  of,  37. 

Newman,  Robert,  354. 

Newton,  celebrities  of,  348  -  353. 

Nicholson,  Commodore  Samuel,  com- 
mands Charlestown  Yard,  29;  col- 
lision with  Claghoru,  29,  30  ;  death 
and  burial,  30. 

Night  watch,  customs  of,  9,  10. 

Nix's  Mate,  170. 

Noddle's  Island  (East  Boston),  27. 

Nonantum  Hill,  352,  353. 

O. 

Old  Manse  (Concord),  389-392. 

Old    South     Church    (Boston),    183  ; 

Washington's  visit  to,  271,  272. 
Old  Wayside  Mill.    See  Powder  House. 
Oliver,  Thomas,  318,  319. 
Otis,  James,  336. 


Parker,  Isaac,  218. 

Parker,  Theodore,  birthplace  of,  361. 

Parker,  John,  361,  409. 

Parker,  Rev.  Samuel,  274,  275. 

Parkman,  Samuel,  379,  429. 

Pearson,  Eliphalet,  262. 

Percival,  Captain  John,  30. 

Percy,  Hugh,  Earl,  march  to  and  re- 
treat from  Lexington,  395  -  405. 

Penny  Ferry,  83. 

Pere  la  Chaise,  Mount  Auburn  com- 
pared with,  329,  334. 

Phillips,  Rev.  George,  346,  347. 

Phillips,  General  William,  165. 

Phips,  David,  mansion,  etc.,  200. 

Phips's  Point.     Se.e  Lechmere's. 

Pierce,  Josiah,  Jr.,  428. 

Pierce,  George  W.,  431. 

Pierce,  Joseph,  173, 

Pigot,  General  Robert,  5. 


Pitcairn,  Major  John,  at  Lexington, 
357  -  359,  381,  382. 

Plowed  Hill  (Mt.  Benedict),  fortifica- 
tions described,  84,  85;  convent  on, 
burnt,  92,  93. 

Pomeroy,  Colonel  Seth,  at  Bunker 
Hill,  60,  61. 

Pontefract  Castle,  England,  capture 
and  siege  of,  12. 

Powder  House,  history  and  description 
of,  110-112;  legend  of,  115. 

Prentice,  Captain  Thomas,  348. 

Prescott,  Colonel  William,  60-62. 

Prospect  Hill,  occupied  by  Putnam, 
62;  fortifications,  148  ;  vestiges  of, 
148,  149,  166,  167  ;  garrison  of,  149; 
description  of  camps  and  flag-raising 
on,  156,  157  ;  Burgoyne's  troops  en- 
camped on,  157  ;  description  of  their 
barracks,  159;  collision  between 
prisoners  and  guards,  160. 

Putnam,  General  Israel,  conducts  an 
excliange  of  prisoners,  8,  9  ;  at  Bun- 
ker Hill,  60  -  62  ;  quarters  and 
sketches  of,  189-192,  197,  272. 

Putnam,  Colonel  Rufus,  anecdote  of, 
108. 


Quarry  Hill,  113. 

Quincy,  Dorothy,  366. 

Quincy,  Eliza  S.,  206,  210. 

Quincy,  Josiah,  210. 

Quincy,  Samuel,  residence  of,  59. 

R. 

Rainsborrow,  General  William,  ser- 
vices imder  Cromwell,  12;  killed,  13. 

Rale,  Sebastian,  205. 

Rawdon,  Francis,  Lord,  at  Bunker 
Hill,  57. 

Reed,  Joseph,  299. 

Revere,  Paul,  prints  Colony  notes, 
348;  night  ride  to  Lexington,  354, 
357,  367. 

Rice,  Reuben,  381. 

Ripley,  Rev.  Ezra,  388,  391. 

Rivington,  James,  anecdote  of,  55. 

Riedesel,  Baron  von,  107,  314-316. 


INDEX. 


441 


Jloyal  ArtUlery,  112,  183,  395. 
Rolfe,  Benjamin,  429. 
Royall,  Isaac,  120,  123,  124,  218. 
Royall,  WUliam,  122. 
Royall,  Samuel,  123. 
Royall,  Penelope,  124. 
Ruggles,  Timothy,  165. 
Ruggles,  Captain  George,  316. 
Russell,  Thomas,  309,  310. 
Russell,  Jason,  402. 

S. 

Saltonstall,  Sir  Richard,  317. 

Scammell,  Alexander,  101. 

Sedgwick,  General  Robert,  serves  under 

Cromwell,  12  ;  death,  14. 
Serjeant,  Rev.  Winwood,  274. 
Seventy-first  Highlanders,  organization 

of,  382. 
Sewall,  Jonathan,  313,  314. 
Sibley,  John  L.,  205. 
Small,  General  John,  anecdote  of,  59. 
Smith,   Captain  John,  names  Charles 

River,    2 ;    New  England,    3  ;    his 

tomb,  3. 
Smith,    Lieutenant-Colonel,   lands   at 

Lechmere's  Point,  356. 
Sparks,  Jared,  311. 
Spooner,  Bathsheba,  165,  166. 
Spooner,  Joshua,  166. 
Stark,  General  John,  at  Bunker  Hill, 

56,  60,  70  ;  quarters  at  Medford,  and 

sketch  of,  125,  126,  272. 
Stirling,  Alexander,  Lord,  303. 
Stirling,  Lady  Kitty,  303. 
Stone,  John,  architect  of  Charles  River 

Bridge,  4. 
Story,   Joseph,   219  ;    home   of,  283  ; 

habits  of,  284,  337. 
Story,  W.  W.,  birthplace  of,  284,  337. 
Stoughton,  Israel,  12. 
Stow,  Cyrus,  383. 
Stratton,  John,  318. 
Sudbury,   Green  Hill,  410  ;  Nobscot, 

410;  King  Philip's  attack,  416,  417  ; 

Noyes  Mill,  417. 
Sullivan,  General  John,  84;   quarters 

of,  98,    129;    his   camp,    101,  102; 

sketch  of,  102,  103. 
19* 


Talleyrand  (Prince  of  Ponte  Corvo), 
310. 

Taverns.  The  Sun,  71 ;  Anna  Whitte- 
more's  (Charlestown),  83;  Billings's 
(Medford),  126,  132;  Fountain  (Med- 
ford), 132;  Conestoga  Wagon  (Phila- 
delphia),148;  Bradish's  (Cambridge), 
158,  213,  214,  Richardson's  (Water- 
town),  345,  346;  Coolidge's,  348; 
Davenport's  (Cambridge),  357 ;  Black 
Horse  (Arlington),  357  ;  Tufts's, 
357  ;  Buckman's  (Lexington),  361  ; 
Wright's  (Concord),  380;  Richard- 
son's, 381:  Bigelow's  (Concord),  381; 
Hey  wood's,  383,  385;  Jones's,  381; 
Munroe's  (Lexington),  396. 

Temple,  Robert,  residence  and  account 
of,  96,  97. 

Ten-Hills  Farm,  accoimt  of,  95  -  99. 

Thompson,  Benjamin  (Count  Rum- 
ford),  427-432. 

Thompson,  General  William,  89. 

Thoreau,  Henry  D.,  379,  380. 

Tidd,  Jacob,  129. 

Tilghman,  Tench,  300. 

Tilghman,  Lloyd,  300. 

Tracy,  Nathaniel,  308,  309. 

Trescott,  Lemuel,  173,  429. 

Trenton,  battle  of,  109  ;  council  of  war 
before,  126  ;  incident  of,  175. 

Trowbridge,  John  T.,  403. 

Trowbridge,  Judge,  home  of,  280. 

Trumbull,  John,  299. 

Tudor,  Frederick,  345. 

Tudor,  Colonel  William,  151  ;  anec- 
dotes of.  162. 

Tudor,  William,  Jr.,  74,  338. 

Tuckerman,  Edward,  284. 

Tufts,  Nathan,  113. 

Tuffs,  Oliver,  141. 

Tiirner,  Job,  40. 

Two  Cranes,  Cliarlestown,  9. 

Two-Penny  Brook,  113. 

V. 

Vanderlyn,  John,  anecdote  of,  105. 
Vassall,  Colonel  Henry,  125. 
Vassall,  John,  Sr.,  286,  292. 


442 


INDEX 


W. 

Wadsworth,  Captain  Samuel,  killed, 
416,  417. 

Wapping,  28. 

Ward,  General  Artem  as,  61;  headquar- 
ters, 258 ;  incident  of  Shays's  Re- 
bellion, 259,  260. 

Ward,  Joseph,  349. 

Warren,  Joseph,  conducts  an  exchange 
of  prisoners,  8  ;  at  Bunker  Hill,  60, 
61,  261 ;  death,  72  ;  statue  of,  77. 

Washington  Elm,  267. 

Washington,  General  George,  collision 
with  Hancock  on  a  point  of  etiquette, 
15,  70,  71;  leave-taking  of  his  officers, 
1 74,  208  ;  first  headquarters  in  Cam- 
bridge, 262  ;  events  in  life  of,  271, 
272  ;  headquarters,  289  -  308  ;  per- 
sonal description  of,  296;  Continental 
uniform,  297  ;  his  staff,  299, 300  ;  at 
Monmouth,  301  ;  anecdotes  of,  301, 
302  ;  habits  of,  306  ;  his  body-guard, 
307,  308. 

Washington,  Lady,  305. 

Waterhouse,  Benjamin,  264. 

Waters,  Captain  Josiah,  187. 

Watertown  meeting  -  houses,  347  ; 
Bridge,  347,  348  ;  burial-grounds, 
346,  347. 

Wayside  Inn  (Sudbury),  420-425. 

Wells,  William,  317. 

Wesson,  Colonel  James,  162,  163. 


West  Church  (Boston),  anecdote  of, 

322. 
West  Boston  Bridge,  built,  4,  5. 
Wheeler,  Captain  Timothy,  ruse  of  at 

Concord,  384. 
Whitcomb,  Colonel  Asa,  anecdote  of, 

156. 
Whitefield's  Elm,  268. 
Wilder,  Marshall  P.,  339. 
Wilkinson,  General  James,  account  of 

Bunker  Hill  battle,  70;   duel  with 

Gates,  104. 
Willard,  Joseph,  209. 
Willard,  Samuel,  211. 
Willard,  Solomon,  architect  of  Bunker 

Hill  Monument,  75,  79,  80. 
Williams,  General  Otho  H.,  88. 
Windmill  Hill  (Cambridge),  284. 
Winter  Hill,  fortified  and  garrisoned, 

100-102;  GeiTuan  encampment  on, 

106,  107. 
Winthrop,  Mrs.  Hannah,  359, 360. 
Winthrop,    Governor    John,   95,   96  ; 

statue,  336. 
Winthrop,  William,  200. 
Worcester,  Joseph  E.,  312. 
Wyeth,  Nathaniel  J.,  his  trip  to  the 

Pacific,  341-344. 
Wyman,  Rufus,  M.  D.,  178. 


Yankee,  origin  of  the  word,  256. 
Yankee  Doodle,  397. 


the:  end. 


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